Junk
by Yamino Tenshi 202
Summary: Different sum. Alfred F. Jones used to be loud and happy. Arthur remembers those days. But when his old friend moves back home, why does he feel like Alfred's sadness might be his fault? Religious undertones. Warnings inside.
1. Temps de Cathedrales

25 January 2012 - 9:25 PM

Being emo... Gah...

Warnings: Angst, Mental/Sexual Abuse, Blood, OCD, homophobia, homosexuality, Sex (Heterosexual, Homosexual, etc.), Self-Mutilation

Pairing: USxTaiwan, USUK/UKUS, FrUK, others to be mentioned within

* * *

><p>Chapter 1: Time of Cathedrals<p>

It was August 1, 2056.

Alfred laughed happily at the jokes his friends were making. A sophomore in high school, nothing could be better.

"Freddie, wasn't that hilarious?" His girlfriend, Mei-Mei, hung onto his arm and he wondered how it could be better.

As he walked towards the school, first day at Orwell Academy, he looked towards the beautiful statues that decorated the grounds. The angelic faces were carved to perfection and the fountains rained their fresh, cool water that was cleaned repeatedly through the school's filters. The trees were brightly lit up by the rising sun.

He looked under, to the shadows of the trees, and saw a boy and girl grinding against each other, teeth lashing out and marking each other. He noticed how the girl seemed to make faces as though she was absolutely drunk off of what the other was doing to her. The boy just seemed to be relieving stress.

"Sick."

"What, Freddie?" Alfred turned to his girlfriend. He glanced up to his friends, all in rugby, all holding their girlfriends.

"Nothing!" He smiled his Hollywood smile, teeth white and perfect.

He was absolutely flawless and loved, or so he liked to believe.

As they were about to walk in the doorway of Orwell Academy, he saw the girl and boy compose themselves before parting. Still unable to recognize their faces, he thanked God that they weren't any of his friends.

* * *

><p>Alfred put his stuff in his locker and hastily grabbed the things he needed for first period French. His second year of French actually, but he had moved from and to the same city, Vandalia, after middle school and had come back for this second year of high school. He was in French III.<p>

As he walked in, he saw a certain individual to whose presence he responded with slight surprise. The boy was silently reading in his seat, some papers neatly piled, few pages, on his desk. His briefcase notebook hung on the side of his desk, just like all of the other students'. His thick eyebrows were relaxed and calm, unlike how they usually were, bent downwards in a scowl.

"Hey, Arthur!" he exclaimed. He walked hastily over to the Briton, whose green eyes focused on his.

Arthur Kirkland lifted his head and his eyes went wide with shock. "Alfred?"

As he came closer, the bell rang and every student ran to a seat, hanging their things on the side of the desk and pulling out notebooks and pencils, just how they'd always been taught.

The teacher came in and asked the student council president of their year to stand up and to announce the news for the first week of school.

The bell rang again and the principal called all people in the building to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance, which was done quickly. Everyone sat after the Pledge except Arthur.

Alfred blinked as Arthur began to read the words off of the papers on his desk, lifting them to read them more accurately and precisely.

"This week, there will be an orientation for the new school year on Wednesday, August 2nd during seventh period. There will be information on club formation days, as well as rules of Orwell Academy and a small background on the history of our school.

"There is a meeting for rugby, foot- eh, excuse me, _soccer_, lacrosse, and baseball on Friday, August 4th, concerning game dates and budgets for equipment. Student council will be there to help with fiscal matters."

"On Saturday, there is a seminar for parents on possible Saturday classes should enough parents agree for it and whether or not the student wishes to take the classes to earn more credit hours or make up credit hours that the student is not able to take for socio-economic reasons or a career learning class.

"Student council needs help on picking a theme for the Autumn Formal. It will take place on Saturday, September 16th. The dress code is formal, as in dress trousers, dress shirts, and dresses. No denim material for either gender, any tee-shirts, or clothes showing excessive skin, cleavage, midriff, or thighs will be allowed."

Arthur sat down after saying "Those are all of the announcements for this week, Madame Mallor."

"Thank you, Arthur." Mme. Mallor turned and picked up an E-pen, writing on the SmartBoard and introducing herself to the class in fancy French. She turned back and began.

"_Bonjour, mes étudiants. Aujourd'hui, nous allons commencer avec les places que vous allez avoir pour le terme."_

"Hello, my students. Today, we will begin with the seats that you will have for the term."

They were called in alphabetical order, Madame learning their names and writing down nicknames as they went and were called, either answering "Here" or responding with their chosen designation. She pointed them to their assigned seats, all twenty-four of them. They picked up their things as they went. Briefcase, notebook, and pencil in hand, they sat in their seats and smiled if they sat next to someone they knew or were familiar with, frowning to themselves when they didn't know the person or disliked him/her.

"Arthur Kirkland."

The Briton sat in his seat, right at the front of the room. He was all the way by the window, far away from the door.

"Alfred Jones." Alfred stood and sat right behind the student council president. Hanging his briefcase on the side, he set his notebook and pencil down.

Once everyone was situated and assigned a book according to their attendance number, Mme. Mallor began to ask them to describe the activities they did over the summer.

No one raised their hands, nervous to speak in front of new people. One kid did.

Madame smiled. "_Oui, François? Lève-toi_."

Francis Bonnefoy, the same age as Alfred and Arthur, fifteen, smiled and stood, speaking in a perfect French accent. "_Madame, je suis allé en France pour visiter mes cousins_."

Alfred sighed softly. Of course, Francis would go to France. His extended family was there. He could afford a trip twice a year.

Madame praised her student's pronunciation and then looked to the side.

"_Oui, Arthur_?" Alfred blink again as Arthur stood to speak.

"_J'ai voyagé en Angleterre pour visiter ma famille aussi et j'ai obtenu un job pour corriger des articles dans un magazine adolescent d'un groupe locale_." He was praised for pronunciation as well, though he spoke a bit softly for her liking. She never could understand why Arthur disliked French class. He was so good at it.

Madame made sure to translate in case someone didn't know any words that were being uttered by her speaking students.

Alfred sighed again, placing his head down on the desk. Arthur went to England to visit family _and_ got a job here in town... Alfred always wanted to travel, but since...

"_Alfred, as-tu quelque chose pour compatir avec nous_?" Alfred lifted his head and stood. Let's see... He moved down from Springfield and took those art classes.

"_Euh... j'ai me déménagé de Springfield pour retourner à Vandalia et j'ai pris une classe d'arts physiques_."

He groaned inwardly. It sounded all wrong when it came out of his mouth. The pronunciation, the speed, the loudness of his voice...

"_Excellent, Alfred! Bon prononciation_!" Madame Mallor smiled proudly, having taught him before and knowing that he must have practiced hard to overcome his American-Midwestern accent.

* * *

><p>Classes went on and Alfred sat down in the library with his lunch after fourth period. It was 11:47 AM.<p>

He looked over his notes for Accelerated Algebra II. It was just review, but he could never be too sure.

"Hello, Alfred."

He looks up and there is Arthur Kirkland.

"Hi, Arthur. Long time no see."

"May I sit here with you?" Arthur held up the same mathematics book. Alfred nodded and moved some of his stuff so that the other boy could sit down.

Arthur coughed lightly and then sat down, a small carton of milk (half-pint) and half of a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich in front of him. The binder was propped up with the table and the bottom of it was against his torso. As he opened the small blue carton, Alfred saw that Arthur had a bracelet around his wrist.

It proudly proclaimed "Belle" in white against a black material.

"Is that from the movie that Mme. Mallor showed us?" Arthur raised the carton to his mouth and then set it down again, swallowing the white liquid and quenching his thirst.

"Film," he corrected the other, "and yes, it's that Hunchback of Notre-Dame song, the one about Esmeralda."

Alfred looked back down at his notes and admired how the x variables always stayed where they needed to be, where they _had_ to be.

He noticed not the eyes that were gazing at him from the books.

* * *

><p>Alfred went straight to youth group after school. It was in Marloph's New Movement Church outside of town.<p>

"Remember, kids. All of these deviants – the rebels, the fags, the whores – must be taught that their Father, their God-Creator, does not want them to do what they do. The Devil has tainted the air they breath, poisoning them and attempting to poison those still pious."

The counselor/trainer turned to the teenagers. "You must find the road to piety."

That was usually how this was... A reform group for rebels, fags, whores...

Why was Alfred here?

Oh, yeah.

It was all Arthur's fault.

* * *

><p>24 February 2012 – 10:13 PM<p>

1) 2056 – I like putting future settings in stuff. It makes me smile, as well as apprehensive.

2) Orwell - George Orwell, a British author who wrote acclaimed works such as **1984 **and **Animal Farm**

**3) Vandalia – The candidate for capital city of Illinois besides Chicago and Springfield. Springfield eventually won because of its position in the middle of the state. I chose this city because of its pretty name. I'm also familiar with the state of Illinois. It's nice there.**

4) SmartBoard – I don't know if everyone has these at school yet. My French teacher still uses a blackboard because she's awesome like that. It's basically an interactive computer screen that hangs on the wall. It's huge and fun to play with. My calculus, English, history, and creative writing teachers love them so. (Well, maybe not my English teacher, but the first invention he had to live without for a while was the television, so he's still getting used to it. Oh, technology...)

5) Marloph's New Movement Church – Random Name.

6) I'm in a youth group. It's not like this, but I'm going off of my mind here.

7) **Gasp** What did Arthur do? Not telling. Yet.


	2. Come Together

2 March 2012 – 4:53 AM

Ooh... Somewhat good reception. Fancy~

What did Arthur do? Hmm...

USUK is the final main pairing of this story, yes.

Warnings: Sex, among other things...

* * *

><p>Chapter 2: Come Together<p>

It was August 2, 2056.

Arthur Kirkland walked into the school building, early as he was a very busy student council president. He went to his locker first, dropping off his things. As he walked into the library, he looked to the clock, seeing that he was walking into the library at a lovely 7:00 in the morning. He sat at the same table that he sat at with Alfred yesterday. As he pulled out the papers that were to plan for the autumn formal, "Homecoming," as these Americans called it, he thought back to yesterday.

Alfred F. Jones. The last time he saw the American was in the eighth grade. They had had a few classes together and had gotten to the status of "friends," though not "close friends." The American, he'd noticed, was very nervous around him, as though the Brit would hurt him if provoked.

Well, Arthur did attack Francis, but that was because that bastard was such a fucking pervert.

Rather, Alfred, the kind boy who was captain of the rugby team that year as well, had always kept his distance and respected the English student, which brought up the reasoning;

Alfred was a nice guy.

"Hey." Arthur looked up from the colors and designs for balloons. There stood Michelle DuBois. She was a student from the country of Seychelles. She was rather cute, but of course, like all others, she had another side.

"Same place, then?" Arthur said, stretching in his chair and looking to the clock again. It was about 7:32 a.m, and they still had about twenty minutes before they had to head to class. Gathering his things, he left them with the librarian, who would keep his things safe until he was able to get them, which wouldn't be too long of a time period.

"No, more people are there than yesterday." Michelle adjusted her hair, pulling her hair from where it was stuck between her breast and her books.

Arthur pondered for a moment. There was no Drama yet.

"The auditorium, then."

* * *

><p>"Oh, Arthur!" Michelle brought a hand to her mouth, Arthur's hand, in an attempt to quiet her moans.<p>

Arthur did not speak at all, only grunting and humming lowly as he thrust into her wet heat. His mind was more on his plans for the autumn form- Homecoming Dance and Alfred F. Jones.

Arthur Kirkland was one of those people that could be talking on the phone while having sex, his tone flat and normal. No one has ever made him lose control.

Then again, no one has ever been stuck on his mind like Alfred F. Jones has.

He bends down, feeling Michelle tighten around him and covering her mouth so that she doesn't alert anyone to their presence. He says, barely a whisper, Michelle's name as he fills the condom with his seed, as an act of kindness.

Ten minutes before they had to get to class.

"Are you sure you're fine?"

"Yes, Arthur. Thanks, but Derek will take care of me when I see him second period."

"Who?"

"The science of life teacher."

Arthur shook his head as he replayed that conversation in the back of his head.

"That little slut."

* * *

><p>Arthur walked into French class and sat down as Madame was about to present their assignment to the class.<p>

"To help us understand a bit of French history, we are going to read the Hunchback of Notre Dame – _Le Bossu de Notre Dame_." He began to pass out the intermediate French novels and handed out a packet as well, to help them with their vocabulary.

"You will all get together with a partner and I will assign you a song from the musical based on the book _Notre Dame de Paris_, a Canadian play." She began to go about assigning partners to everyone.

Arthur turned his eyes to the other side of the room, watching as some students were now excited about their groups or were incredibly disappointed by the choices. He saw Alfred's cousin Matheiu smile as he was paired up with Gilbert, the Prussian student, which made sense as the two became really close last year.

"Arthur, Francois, and Alfred are going to be a group of three." Two sets of blue and a set of green went wide.

"You are assigned the song _Belle_."

Arthur fingered at his bracelet.

"No fair, Madame!"

"Yeah, you showed us the part of the musical that had _Belle _in it yesterday!"

"There's a reason for that." Madame Mallor placed a hand on Francis's shoulder. "I know that Mister Bonnefoy and Kirkland have been in past musicals, and Mister Jones is going to be in this season's musical, so it would be fantastic if they could perform it for us, yes?"

"That would be good."

"Yeah! We wouldn't want anyone to mess it up!"

"Yeah! Go for it, Arthur!"

"Francis should play Phoebus."

"Then who's going to be Quasimodo? Arthur has the eyebrows for it."

"But Arthur would be a good Frollo, too!"

He turned to Alfred, who bent over his desk, head over a notebook that was being scribbled in. It appeared as though the American was drawing. Miniscule movements were being made, precision and detail obviously being favored as the slightly younger student seemed to draw something from the depths of his mind, his eyes burning the image into the lined paper.

Arthur tilted his head. Why was the boy so distracting to him?

* * *

><p>Alfred walked into his home, placing his coat on the coat-rack and sitting down to do his homework. He pulled out his Accelerated Algebra II and began to work on that, pressing the "Play Back" button on the answering machine that was on the table next to the loveseat where his body was.<p>

_-beep-_

_"Alfred, this is Mom. I'm going to be home at 7:00 tonight. Make yourself something to eat."_

_-beep-_

_"Alfred, what's this I hear about football tryouts? I signed you up for Saturday tryouts. Unless you're doing rugby again. That's fine, even though I wished you would go for football, but rugby's just as fun."_

_-beep-_

_"Alfred, I hope you're home right now. It's 3:30." _Alfred turned to the clock and saw that it was 3:32. _"I'm coming home right now. We need to talk about your youth group with your counselor, who'll be joining us for dinner. He's allergic to nuts. Please cook something without them and have it ready by 4:10 sharp, young man."_

_-beep-_

Alfred paused his writing. X's were meeting up with Y's and now the Z's were blurring up.

* * *

><p>"Ms. Jones, it's wonderful that you've opened up your home to me tonight." Mister Anderson, youth counselor at Marloph's, walked in through the front door at exactly 4:10 in the afternoon. The woman that he addressed was thirty-eight years old, her blue eyes showing a glimpse of youthful exuberance and her hair glistening in the waning sunlight.<p>

"All for my fellow Godly neighbor," she said modestly, and more gravely added, "and for my son to be loved by his Lord Father."

Ms. Jones turned as she walked in, wiping her shoes on the welcome mat that accompanied the one inside. She smiled when she saw her son, fifteen years old, standing by the dining room table.

The table was set with fine china and silver utensils, faux wine glasses ready to be filled with either 1968 Chianti wine or sparking red grape juice. Pasta was in a ceramic bowl, two bowls of homemade alfredo and homemade tomato sauce on either side of the large bowl. Three portions, two extra portions added in case of the guest wanting a bit more of the Italian inspired meal. A fava bean salad lay in a lovely bowl next to the ice container, wine and juice chilling in the container.

Alfred himself was dressed sharply as well. Though not too formal, he wore a plain, long-sleeved shirt that was a nice shade of white. He wore his blue school jacket, which happened to match his eyes, and some black dress pants.

"Hello, Mr. Anderson," Alfred greets with a smile on his face. He extends his hand to meet the counselor's and gives a good solid handshake, Ms. Jones notes.

The only good thing inherited from his father.

That and his athletic build.

Alfred caught his mother's gaze and shivered.

Cooking was easy.

School was easy.

It was his mother, counselor, and Arthur that made it difficult.

After dinner, Ms. Jones turned to her son.

"Do you have any more homework?"

He shook his head negative.

"Come," Ms. Jones said, extending her hand to her son's. "Let's go perform some lessons."

Scratch that.

It was because he was his father's son.

* * *

><p>Arthur closed his eyes, hands on his hips.<p>

Arthur opened his eyes, hands around him.

Arthur smiled, lips meeting his.

* * *

><p>8 March 2012 – 2:24 PM<p>

I've confused you all, haven't I?

1) I like saying formals instead of Homecoming or Sadie's.

2) _Notre Dame de Paris –_ A Canadian play that we were recently shown in class to read with the book _Le Bossu de Notre Dame_. We were shown the song _Belle_, sung by Quasimodo, Frollo, and Phoebus. Sexy... and sad. By the way, I make the students in this fic start foreign language in the eighth grade, as this makes a bit more sense to me. I would make them start in sixth grade, but that doesn't make too much sense as it would break out of high school completely. Middle school gives a bit more of a transition, capturing the opportune moment when teenagers (thirteen-year-old's) are doubling the amount of brain cell connections they will make than when they are adults.

3) Chianti and fava beans – Hannibal Lector anyone? According to Man Eat Food (.com), Hannibal Lector could have eaten the liver, fava beans, and Chianti like this:

Fool (or Fül) Medammes Fava Bean Salad – a South American dish

Liver and Onions

He could have braised the liver with the Chianti or have drunken it separately.


	3. Belle

22 March 2012 – Earlier this afternoon

FYI to anyone: Alfred is not gay. He is just blaming Arthur for something. That _something_ just makes Arthur important. He's not in the brainwashing seminar because he's gay. It's a precaution.

I also wrote ballads for Alfred and Arthur. I'll put them up here at some point; I have a spot for them in the plot. They explain more emotion than what I can write all prose-like.

Warnings: Translating a song from French, drugs and sex (FRUK)

Disclaimer: _Belle _is from the comedie-musicale **Notre-Dame de Paris** and is originally sung by P. Fiori, Garou, and D. Lavoie. Enjoy its Canadian-ness! :D

* * *

><p>Chapter 3: Belle (Beauty)<p>

* * *

><p>It was August 5, 2056.<p>

Alfred F. Jones stepped off of the Hydro-Bus, saying good-bye to the bus driver. The man grunted in response before pressing a button to close the doors and driving off. Alfred walked for a few moments before coming to a house with French doors, white paneling and a beautiful garden. He was saddened when he thought about what it would look like in the winter: gray, dead, barren.

"Oh, you must Alfred." Said American looked up and saw a beautiful woman with dark blonde hair and bright, familiar blue eyes. Amélie Bonnefoy wore a lovely sundress, a green that matched the plants, and Alfred vaguely wondered if she was an angel; Her smile so welcoming and alluring, a gentle woman who seemed to care so much for her son. From what Francis seemed to exude when he spoke of his _mère_, he loved her very much.

Alfred loved his mother.

But he didn't talk about her much.

* * *

><p>Alfred accepted the small cookies that he was offered by Mme. Bonnefoy ("Merci, Madame"), on his second when Arthur and Francis came through the door.<p>

"Bonjour, maman. Oh! Alfred, you're here!" Francis greeted both his mother and Alfred, holding some bags in his arms. Arthur held some as well, setting them on the counter. They were full of foods from the near by farmers' market; it was a bizaar of organically grown fruits and vegetables. It was much different from the Well-Mart down the road, that was for sure.

"Have you waited long, Alfred?" Arthur looked over at the younger boy. Even though they weren't too far apart in age, Arthur had made it clear when they first met that he was older than Alfred by 2 months and 11 days.

"I just got here a little bit ago. Did we have our idea for the project?" Alfred moved to help the other two, but Mme. Bonnefoy negated his actions.

"You three 'ave to work on your project, non? I'll put things away and make a snack dinner. Your job now is to go work." She waved the boys upstairs, where her son's room was. Alfred finished his cookie and went upstairs as she said, Arthur and Francis close behind.

* * *

><p>"So Arthur's idea was to record it with our voices and just leave it at that?" Francis sat on one of the floorpillows that his family had gotten him four years ago. They were quite durable. Alfred and Arthur each sat on one as well.<p>

"Well, I don't want anyone to see me prancing around in the classroom." Arthur scowled. He did like to perform, but plays were his specialty. He didn't know if anyone he knew was watching during such a spectacle. In a classroom, where everyone would be judging there and where it counted for a grade! No way.

Alfred bit his lip. He had an idea, but...

"Alfred, you've been quiet. Do you 'ave an idea?" Francis heard the accent in his own voice. He tried being able to control it all the time, but he was proud of his background. Besides, a small slip of an "h" sound never stopped anyone from understanding him.

"I was thinking about dressing up as the characters... and then recording us singing the song on video. That way we can perform it and not have to worry about being in front of people while we do it." Alfred could feel a bit of sweat on the back of his neck.

"That's a good idea, actually." Arthur sat up.

"Madame said that we could record it. We would just have to turn in an extra paper about it." Francis nodded, pulling out his mini-disc player. He hooked it up to his stereo, a wonderful, beautiful antique from 2010. After fiddling with the old knobs and switches, the sultry tones of Quasimodo, Claude Frollo, and Phoebus.

"I think I'll be Phoebus." Francis smirked. "I can get the sensuality of it." Arthur glared at him.

"Do you think I'm Frollo?" Arthur shivered. A perverted judge in his adult years pining over a sixteen-year-old girl. Francis would.

"I'll be Quasimodo." Arthur and Francis looked to the shy American. "My voice can get pretty rough when I want it to without it being effected to longer afterwards. If you tried, Arthur, I think you'd just end up hurting yourself." Alfred looked down. Those eyes...

"All right, then." Arthur then decided that maybe this project would help the younger boy out of his shell. The Alfred he knew was so loud and rambunctious. It almost sounded as though he was talking about a young child, but that was how Alfred was two years ago.

"Let's start then."

* * *

><p>Alfred sat as Mme. Bonnefoy did his Quasimodo make-up.<p>

"You are 'andsome even when meaning to look like _le bossu_, Alfred." The boy blinked, unsure of how to answer.

"Merci, Mme. Bonnefoy?" Handsome when looking like the Hunchback... was that a compliment?

"Excuse me, Madame; Is he done yet?" Arthur stood in black robes, courtesy of M. Bonnefoy, who had called his son wondering if he needed anything for the project. Luckily, the costume store was open early this year and so he had gone inside, looking for a black priest's robe, a simple knight's uniform, and a zombie outfit. Thankfully for the boys, everything had been on sale due to lack of demand (Who opened a Halloween store in August?) and was easy for fix. He also found some makeup to make Alfred's face look deformed and recognizable as Quasimodo. They managed to find a pillow for Alfred's hunch.

"Oui, il est fini." Mme. Bonnefoy stood, smiling at her work. Alfred, looking in the mirror, saw why she did.

His left eye looked bruised and frightening, a strange scar on his face. His cheeks looks hollowed out, gaunt. With the eye that wasn't covered some by his hair, he had a scar that went through it. He could still tell it was him in the mirror, a strange sense of male beauty still coming through.

He turned to Arthur. "How do I look?"

For some reasons, Arthur's cheeks turned kind of red. "You look fine. Come on." He grabbed the American's hand. "We need to start now."

* * *

><p>Francis had his long hair back in a ponytail, a smug look on his face. "I look so handsome, non?"<p>

Arthur scowled at him. "Hurry up and start the music." He stood in the robes lookiing rather uncomfortable. Perhaps he was nervous because Francis's mother was the one recording the video, his father having to eat a small snack before working in his office until dinner.

Alfred stayed low to the ground, where his character was supposed to be in the play. He heard where Quasi was supposed to begin...

_Belle _

_A word that one would say was invented for her_  
><em>When she dances and greets the day, like her<em>  
><em>Form is a bird whose wings are spread to fly<em>  
><em>Yet I see Hell open beneath me before my eyes<em>

_I put my eyes underneath her gypsy skirt_  
><em>To keep praying to Notre Dame, what does it serve?<em>

_Who_

_Is the one who will hit her with the first stone?_  
><em>It's he who deserves not life in body or stone<em>

_O Lucifer ! _  
><em>Oh ! Leave me with just one chance <em>  
><em>To slide my fingers in through the hair of Esméralda<em>

Arthur kept his cool as Madame turned the video camera in his direction.

_Belle_

_Is it the devil whose incarnated in her?_  
><em>To have turned my eyes from God Eternal<em>  
><em>Whose put in my being carnal desire and vice <em>  
><em>To keep me from looking towards Paradise<em>

_She carries in her the Sin Original_  
><em>Does desiring her make me a criminal?<em>

_She _

_Whose been taken for a whore, a girl off of the street _  
><em>Suddenly seems to carry the cross of humanity<em>

_O Notre-Dame ! _  
><em>Oh ! Leave me with just one chance<em>  
><em>To go into the garden of Esméralda<em>

Francis kept his cool as his mother turned to camera to him, ignoring her smirk, for she had read the book and knew what his character was like.

_Belle _

_Despite those big, black eyes that enrapture_  
><em>Could this girl still be pure?<em>  
><em>When she moves, I see hills and wonders<em>  
><em>Underneath her rainbow underskirt Sous son jupon aux couleurs de l'arc-en-ciel <em>

_My betrothed, let me be, to you, a man untrue _  
><em>Before we're joined at the alter, to one from two<em>

_Who_

_Is the man who will turn his gaze from her at all _  
><em>Under the pain of being turned to a statue of salt? <em>

_O Fleur-de-Lys, _  
><em>I am not a loyal man<em>  
><em>I will pick the flower of love from Esméralda<em>

Mme Bonnefoy held a thumbs up before zooming out the camera slowly, to capture all three boys.

_I put my eyes underneath her gypsy skirt_  
><em>To keep praying to Notre Dame, what does it serve?<em>

_Who_

_Is the one who will hit her with the first stone?_ _  
>It's he who deserves not life in body or stone<em>

_O Lucifer ! _ _  
>Oh ! Leave me with just one chance <em>  
><em>To slide my fingers in through the hair of Esméralda<em>

Arthur did not notice eyes were on him.

_Esméralda_

* * *

><p>Francis looked over the video, smiling. "This looks very <em>chouette<em>, very neat!" He didn't know if the music would be clear, or if their voices would even be heard clearly, but it sounded amazing.

Arthur chuckled at him. "You sound like you're from that _Nicolas_ movie that Mme. Mallor showed us in class."

Alfred sat silently again. He looked at them and remembered something. "Are you putting this on the V-web?"

"That video site?" Francis asked. "I have an account. Do you want me to?"

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. "Not really."

Francis shrugged. "All right."

Arthur stared at the American. "Are you camera shy?"

"Just a bit." Alfred smiled awkwardly. "More like I'd rather not be on the Internet at all."

"Okay!"

"Boys! _Le dîner est prêt!_ Dinner is ready!"

* * *

><p>After dinner, Alfred went back home on the Hydro-bus, thanking the Bonnefoys for having him in their home. Arthur and Francis went down to a nearby Soma houses, flashing their fake I.D. cards and strolling on in.<p>

They asked for some Soma, letting the euphoria of the sweet fill their systems.

A fog...

"Oh, fuck!" Arthur slammed himself down on Francis's cock, needing the friction. He loved this feeling, the emptiness of annoyances and pains.

No more screams from Dad or his brothers.

No more frightening man above him.

"Arthur..." Francis hissed as Arthur scratched at his back. "Shh..."

The younger teen bit his lip, trying to stay quiet.

There weren't many other people having sex in the closets of the Soma House.

"Arthur!"

Arthur whispered Francis's name, like he did so many others.

After all, he wasn't worthy.

* * *

><p>Jodie and Alfred moaned, tears running down their faces.<p>

"Alfred, I love you!" Thrusts met and Alfred swore he saw God frowning upon him.

"Jodie..."

* * *

><p>23 March 2012 - 5:47 PM<p>

1) Arthur is born on Shakespeare's B-day (April 23rd). March 3rd doesn't really work with me because there is no real support to it beside the fact that 3/3 written in Japanese looks like his eyebrows.

2) In France, students and teenagers don't have jobs. School is considered to be their occupation. This makes more sense because this creates a sense of obligation and necessity to have a good education. If a teen wants a job, they will offer to clean houses or tutor someone, something that keeps time in their control.

3) Q: Author, why the hell are they doing a project on a song from a Canadian musical?

A: I did the same project with two friends of mine. We couldn't use «Belle» so we used «L'Attaque de Notre-Dame» and «Bohemienne». We used the end of «Belle» at the end. Basically, we made a remix.

I tried to make the translation kind of rhyme while keeping the sense of what each line meant, as well as keeping it in rhythm with the music. :( Sad face...

4) What Alfred says about a raspy singing voice. Singing in that style for long if it's unnatural can damage vocal cords. From what I heard of both voice actors of America, they have a pretty good range so I thought that it would be better to have him sing Quasimodo's part.

5) _Chouette_ - "neat" - an older term used especially in the movie «Petit Nicolas» (Little Nicholas), based on a comic which takes place in 1950's/60's. It's a comedy.

6) Soma house - If any of you read "CEH and then some," I recently made a reference to the book "1984." Soma comes from the related book "Brave New World." Good reads.

7) Soma tablets - I thought of them like ecstasy when I was reading the book. They told us in health class that sometimes ecstasy is disguised as Smarties candy (not the chocolate kind) in order to appeal to younger customers. Yes, they're getting high on drugged Smarties.


	4. Playing God

24 March 2012 – 1:37 PM

FYI to that one reviewer: Alfred is **currently** not gay. Right now he likes girls... and one guy, so he doesn't view himself as gay.

FYI: You would like to know who Jodie is... but that's for later :3 Al and Jodie are super close, I can tell you that.

The final pairing will be USUK (UKUS at first), but it will take time. The reason why is explained in this chapter.

Warnings: Long chapter with religious undertones, anti-homosexuality, a certain controversial booklet (if you live in the U.S, you probably know what I'm talking about)

This... is rather uncomfortable for me to write.

Points of view switch in this chapter quite a bit.

BTW: The past chapter titles are all songs. «Temps de Cathedrales» and «Belle» are from the muscial mentioned earlier. "Come Together" is by the Beatles.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Pray Away the Gay booklet or the song Playing God (Paramore).

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: Playing God<p>

* * *

><p>It was September 3, 2056.<p>

Alfred F. Jones stepped off of the Hydro-Bus, saying good-bye to the bus driver. The man grunted in response before pressing a button to close the doors and driving off. Alfred walked for a few moments before coming to a house with white doors, white paneling and a beautiful garden. He brightened when he thought about what it would look like in the winter: gray, dead, barren.

Then he shook his head. He'd just gone to church. How on Earth could he think such a thing?

His counselor had given him a booklet, one from the year 2012.

He stared at the cover.

"Alfred!" Mrs. Jones opened the back micro-screen door, the pseudo-glass mirroring the outside like a plate of silver, though it had no glare. She came towards her son, who was still shorter than her as she was five foot six, her child five foot five.

"Did you enjoy the after-mass seminar with your counselor?" Alfred paused at that. He felt frightened. Church was so rigid, not at all lively like his father's church and it made him wonder if his mother truly wanted him to be there.

"Yes, mother. I did." He felt her arms wrap around him, a loving embrace.

"That's wonderful, darling." She held him out at arm's length. "It seems like rehab is working right?"

Of course, that's what his "youth group" was. Rehab.

To make sure he was normal.

Unlike Dad.

"What's that in your hands?" Alfred looked down to the booklet. **Pray Away the Gay** was printed boldly on the cover.

"It's a book for Group." He held it out to her, a great distance in his eyes, watching her long, swimmer arm reach out for the pamphlet. Her hand gripped it and all of a sudden, ice dropped in his stomach as he let it go, watching her take the booklet from him.

Like everything else.

She flipped through the book, skimming the first page, the introduction. After all, what did some female politician from the early 2000's have anything to do with the 2050's? She flipped to the beginning...

**The Warning Signs**

* * *

><p>It was Monday, September 11, 2056.<p>

Arthur watched as some kids talked about how their grandparents or great-grandparents remember where they were when 9/11/2001 occured. It was a whole week of talking about honoring the American flag, talking about tolerance...

Tolerance.

He looked over at Mathieu Williams, who had "come out of the closet" in eighth grade. Rumors had flown through airways of cell phones and Internet tablets. No one knew for sure now, though the boy had gone to the Headmaster's office to explain that these rumors were totally false.

Here, in high school, he had no reason to hide and was completely open about it.

The bullies didn't attack him up front, but rumors tried to do some damage.

Too bad that Mathieu was too nice for the rumors to hold any validity towards him.

Tolerance.

The word was utter shit.

* * *

><p>It was Wednesday, September 13, 2056.<p>

Alfred inhaled slowly, trying to relax his heart rate. He knew that this was a stupid idea. He held the booklet against his chest, underneath his light jacket, making sure that no one else at school knew it existed.

"Hey, Al." He looked up and saw his cousin Mathieu walk over. He could swear that his heart skipped in anxiety.

"H-Hi, Mattie." He smiled, his Hollywood smile such a good mask. Just like his father taught him.

_"Show no fear. If you do, you might fall and crash, but don't be afraid to get help."_

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the cheesecake place with Miguel and me." Mathieu's boyfriend, Miguel, and Alfred had gotten off to a bad start when they met. Alfred was more concerned with the kind of boy Mattie was dating rather than the fact that his cousin, his awesome cousin, was a homosexual.

Speaking of gay, he could see Miguel walking up to Mattie.

"Are you coming with us then?" he asked Alfred. The Cuban boy hugged his lover from behind, holding him close. Alfred could see the sparkle in their eyes, but he felt strange all the same.

"I can't," he answered. "I...I have youth group every Wednesday." He held the booklet tighter.

"Oh, okay." Miguel and Mattie turned, seeing Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio. They waved at each other. Mathieu turned around and hugged his cousin, which Alfred returned, though one arm was stuck between them. Mathieu turned and whispered in his cousin's ear.

"I'm sorry about your mom and dad, Al." Alfred felt nauseous.

"Thanks."

* * *

><p>Arthur was finishing up some things for student council. The autumn formal had been a success, but now the spring formal needed to be planned, and some of the interest clubs wanted to have winter parties. Stress was beginning to bring him a headache.<p>

A knock on his door.

"Come in," he answered verbally, wondering who would come to his office. It was half an hour after school. Who would still be here?

"Hi, Arthur." Alfred came in, closing the door behind him. Arthur blinked. Why was Alfred F. Jones, star of the rugby team, here in his office?

"Are you here to ask for something for thr rugby team, or...?" He really couldn't imagine why the other boy would be in here.

"I..." Alfred swallowed. Oh, shit. What if Arthur was offended by it and decided that he didn't want to be friends with Alfred anymore? What if they started asking him about his own life and Arthur was uncomfortable with that? They weren't afraid to rebuke in public, but that's what made Alfred different than them.

"I was wondering if you would like to go to my youth group with me."

Arthur blinked. "Youth group? Like for church?"

Alfred averted his eyes. "Yeah. My mother signed me up for it and I was wondering if you had the time or want to go with me?"

Arthur paused his movements for a moment, the last papers now hovering just above their proper place. Church, huh? He hadn't been in years. Not since his mother... If there was a God, he probably loved to blame the shit of the world on him and make him take a horrible job, have a horrible life... Maybe it was just his parents.

"All right."

* * *

><p>Alfred and Arthur came into Marloph's New Movement Church, a bit winded as they had caught the Hydro-bus on time, but had to get off a block away from the church, making them run down towards the clinic entrance and slipping inside.<p>

Alfred went to the desk.

"I -hah- know we're late, but -hah- I wanted my friend to come with me." Alfred panted to the secretary, who smiled with glee.

"A convert?"

"Not yet. I just brought him to visit."

Arthur lifted an eyebrow at the word "convert," but he straightened himself and came over to the desk to shake the woman's hand. He saw a cross hang on her necklace. It was a black crystal cross, almost giving off a glow of purple in the light.

"That's a beautiful pendant." The secretary looked down at it.

"It is, isn't it?" she answered with a far away look. Arthur knew that look.

The look of the eternally devoted.

"Come on," Alfred said, and he saw the boy unzip his jacket and pull out a booklet when the secretary turned her back to talk through a speaker and let the Counselor know that Alfred was here with a guest.

Arthur followed after the American, who led him down a hallway. In front of a red door was where they stopped.

"I'm sorry."

Arthur looked to his friend. "What? Why?" Alfred hadn't hurt him or insulted him; Why was he apologizing?

"If you get uncomfortable," Alfred whispered, as though cameras and mini-phones were listening and watching. "Just try to endure it until break. It's 3:50 now; break is at 4:20. We come together for fifteen minutes of reflection and personal talks with the Counselor at the end and we're done at 4:45." His shoulders were shaking.

"Al?" He grabbed the other's shoulder softly. "Are you going to be okay?"

The door opened. A man in black robes and a purple ribbon of cloth about his neck came out, a large cross pendant about his neck as well.

"Alfred." He smiled at the American, who straightened up. He turned to Arthur. "And your guest. Welcome." He held out a hand, which Arthur's gripped. The handshake was firm, but it seems to just be a formality to Arthur. It didn't seem to hold any sense of camaraderie. The priest turned to Alfred.

"Are you alright, my child?" Alfred nodded.

"I'm fine. Just a bit tired because we had to run from the bus stop to get here before break." The priest chuckled as Arthur dropped his hand.

"Well, then. Come in, come in." As Arthur walked in, he saw so many smiling faces.

But he could sense animosity in every one's eyes. What did he do?

As they took their seats, Alfred handed him a Bible and sat down to open his own, pointing out the page number on a black board at the front of the room.

Arthur thumbed through the pages to **1 Corinthians 6: 9-11**, something he vaguely remembered meaning First Corinthians, Chapter 6, Verses 9 though 11.

His eyes widened as he read it.

He knew why Alfred didn't ask anyone else.

Why he didn't ask Mathieu to come.

The priest began. "Let us read these verses. Sandra, could you read for us?"

A girl who appeared to be fifteen years old stood, bowing slightly in the priest's direction. "Yes, Counselor." She cleared her throat.

"'Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived, neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor homosexuals, nor sodomites, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you. But you were washed, but you were sanctified, but you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God.'"

"Thank you, Sandra." The girl sat back down.

Arthur looked at the page, but couldn't really turn away from the page.

_Do not be deceived, neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor homosexuals, nor sodomites, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners will inherit the kingdom of God._

Did Alfred know something about him that would cause him to make him come here with him?

"My children." Arthur looked towards the priest, focusing more on the crucifix that hung over his head.

"This group is for those struggling against vice. We've had specialized seminars and those seem to be working for everyone, according to the meetings I've had with your parents." Arthur blinked at that. This man was involved with their personal lives? Not just the spiritual?

"One subject that we cover in our seminars is that of the life of the sexual deviants." Arthur blinked again. "Those that fornicate, sodomize, commit adultery or homosexual acts, or have some perversion in sexual intercourse; those are the ones that shall not be allowed into the Kingdom of the Lord. Why do you think that is?"

Hands went up and Arthur listened to the voices.

"They're all unclean."

"It's not natural."

"They're not trying to have kids at all and are just in it for the sex."

"It goes against the covenant for a man and woman."

"They focus on worldly pleasure rather than saintly pleasures."

Arthur was freaking out inside, but he didn't let it show.

Weakness is letting your fear show.

"Turn to Leveticus, Chapter 20, Verse 13." The priest paused until the rustling of fine, thin pages stopped. "Alfred, could you read please? You might have a different version over there in that part of the room."

Arthur watched as the other stood, eyes blank and taking everything in.

"'If there is a man who lies with a male as those who lie with a woman, both of them have committed a detestable act; they shall surely be put to death. Their bloodguiltiness is upon them.'"

Arthur felt his bones chill.

The priest thanked the blond and let him sit down. "In Alfred's version, it says 'detestable act.' In Hebrew 'abomination' is a synonym for those words. "'Both of them have committed an abomination.' What does that word mean?"

Silence, and no hands raised.

A kid raised his hand, having pulled out his cell phone and going onto the Internet.

"Counselor, I have it on my phone."

"Go ahead."

"'Abomination: anything abominable; anything greatly disliked or abhorred; intense aversion or loathing; detestation; a vile, shameful, or detestable action, condition, habit, etc.'"

"Thank you, Cody." He patted the boy's shoulder and moved on.

"'Anything greatly disliked'; 'vile.' God never meant for anything like that to exist. The Devil works in the most cruel of ways. Your friend might be a homosexual and try to get you involved into that community." He made an X with his forearms. "Defy it. Your soul will not burn for not having associated yourself with that. In Corinthians, homosexuals are as sinful as whores, rapists, adulterers, and thieves. Anyone of these people will burn for their crimes against the Holy Father."

He and Arthur saw much anxiety from some of the members. "That's why we have this group, so that we can have your soul from the Devil's fire." Fire built in the Counselor's eyes. "But those that do not regret that lifestyle shall surely burn. They will be there until the end of days and long after the Final Judgement. Repent your actions and devote your life to the Lord's service.

"Let us bow our heads in prayer."

Arthur mimicked the others and got on his knees, heads down. Alfred's shoulders were still shaking slightly.

"Dear Lord,

"Help me to recognize those who are being tempted into homosexual, unfaithful, or whorish lifestyles by Satan. Aid me in my quest to turn them away from sin and back into your arms. Bless me for my heterosexual piety.

"Amen."

"Now we will have our break."

* * *

><p>25 March 2012 - 8:27 AM<p>

1) The **Pray Away the Gay** booklet is from Michelle Bachman. I found it on tumblr and it drove me insane.

2) What happened to Mathieu actually happened to me, though I'm bisexual, not gay.

3) My friend took me to her youth group. They didn't talk about being gay or anything like that, but it actually solidified my view of my sexuality and I accepted it finally. We get in huge arguments about gay marriage and porn (really, porn), but I guess we're cool. Republican...

4) Purple is the color of royalty and the color used during funerals by Catholic priests. (I'm Catholic.) Funeral... maybe that's a plot point.

5) The Bible verses are all real. They're all worded somewhat differently because they're from different versions of the Bible and I don't have my King James edition on me right now.

6) Definitions are credited to Dictionary .Com.

7) I don't know how people write anti-gay sermons, so... yeah.

8) The prayer is changed from the prayer card in the Pray Away the Gay pamphler... God, this is hurting my heart now.


	5. Paradise Lost

27 March 2012 - While in school

Note to the anonymous reviewer: Hey, I'm Catholic too. ^^ I chose purple for the priest's ribbon (that thing they have around their necks. I know it's green during normal time) because during my cousin's funeral it was purple (he died in August of my 7th grade year). Purple just makes a connection to deep emotions and intense emotions in my mind. As said in the notes, it is the color of royalty. Royals are among the highest of statures in history and the idea of a priest thinking himself a royal and holy compared to whores, thieves, and homosexuals is logical to me.

To RawrGodzirra: :( Sad face. I'm glad you like the realism, but the idea that you believe that the priest would be a good representation of someone who would attack you for your sexuality... *hugs you* I'm saddened.

Note about me: My mother did hit me several times when I brought the idea of not being completely heterosexual to her. I finally came out when I needed advice. I tried keeping it like I was talking about boys, but I got fed up with it and so I told her it was two girls. She cried, but I told her I wasn't gay. She and my father now give me permission to have sex... I think they believe that screwing a guy will make me completely straight. Sigh...

Moving on. Ignore my note.

Warnings: Long chapter with religious undertones, anti-homosexuality, sexual abuse/rape

Disclaimer: Paradise Lost was written by John Milton (I chose xxxxx groups of five lines (lines 1 through asdfsfs)

* * *

><p>Chapter 5: Paradise Lost<p>

* * *

><p><em>Of Man's First Disobedience, and the Fruit<em>

_Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal tast_

_Brought Death into the World, and all our woe,_

_With loss of Eden, till one greater Man_

_Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat,_

It was Wednesday, September 13, 2056.

Arthur sat still as the other moved about, stretching and chatting. He didn't.

Alfred had just invited him to an anti-gay seminar. The other boy couldn't be anti-gay, or at least as much as a homophobe, as the priest, or the other people here. He wouldn't hang out with his cousin Mathieu as often as he did if he was. His heart was beating hard, and his eyesight swam a bit.

Was this how a person that was going to be hung felt like?

"Arthur," he heard and a soft, strong hand came in contact with his arm. Looking up, the English boy matched his green eyes with Alfred's blue. They looked so concerned and compassionate, and he realised that the other boy wasn't too comfortable here either. Why the Hell would Alfred be here if he didn't want to be? The younger boy had always seemed so happy and gay - _content_, he meant - before he had moved away to Tenessee. What had happened?

"Are you okay?"

_ High on a Throne of Royal State, which far_

_Outshon the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,_

_Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand_

_Showrs on her Kings Barbaric Pearl and Gold,_

_Satan exalted sat, by merit rais'd_

"I-"

The priest came over, beaming with pious pride. "Hello again, Alfred, and precious new child."

Arthur sat up, pulling away from Alfred's comforting hand. He missed the hand slightly, though there was no real reason why. They weren't close like they were in 8th grade, so it didn't make sense for him to yearn for the other... even with what he had learned at this fucked-up seminar.

"Sir, could I have a word with you?" Arthur turned his eyes ever so slightly, just to look over the priest's shoulders and used his peripheral vision for the rest. The other kids, and some adults he noticed now, were chatting normally, though they kept an eye on him, probably seeing if the new boy was tainting, Satanizing their spiritual brother. "In private?"

The priest chuckled. "We have no private room that we could use now, child. Why don't you say it here?" The man peered at him, almost burning him with his brown, Hell-wrathful eyes. Arthur shivered and he knew why the other people were so subdued, why they responded more like robots than pets. There was peer pressure and a mob mentality. Not to mention the pressure was religious, something that held the belief that God, Jehovah, Allah, Yahweh, whatever people called their deity, would condemn them if they stepped outside of the boundaries that humans have defined in the name of said Diety. Who wouldn't want to see loathsome people condemned, and themselves saved?

But there's that fine line.

And everyone hangs from a spider's web.

Arthur swallowed. "Very well." He paused. "Everything you're preaching. It's contradictory, isnt' it?"

The priest smile twitched at its corners. And the crowd gathered slowly.

"Contradictory, child?" The priest chuckled. "What on Earth do you mean?"

Arthur blinked, eyebrows dropping some. It was like a small fight at school, though it would get larger, certainly. "You, a priest, preach of tolerance and brotherhood. You promote peace on Earth and charity, yet you don't allow true pious people in if they have a fault. If they have faults, or rather _are abnormal_, you could care less for their souls. You kick them out. You **want** them to burn."

The priest shook his head. "It is not that we want. We want them to see the error of their lives, that God did not want them to be homosexual, or any other kind of sexual deviant. Because of their deviation, they are uncontent spiritually, only proof of their sin."

_Hail holy light, ofspring of Heav'n first-born,_

_Or of th' Eternal Coeternal beam_

_May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light,_

_And never but in unapproached light_

_Dwelt from Eternitie, dwelt then in thee,_

Arthur frowned. "But what if they are content spiritually?" A small gasp was heard, but ignored. "Sin is truly subjective. If it was factual, why isn't the Catholic Church still a world power as the Papal States? Your church is sin in the eyes of radical Catholics, Muslims, and other radicals, those that do not tolerate nonconformity. All you truly are teaching-"

The priest frowned finally. The fire in his eyes was growing and Arthur could tell that a cloud of distrust, betrayal and scorn. "What we teach here is piety and respect. Above all, fear of God, which sure you do not possess."

Arthur blinked. "Shouldn't I love God rather than fear him?"

Alfred blinked.

"I mean, if he wants me to follow him and worship his powers, shouldn't I be happy enough in my life before I worry about loving someone that controls my being?"

"You must fear God-"

"From the Old Testament. The God of the New Testament is a loving, forgiving God. You follow the God of Old Testament with your Christian ideals when the Old Testament is truly the Torah of Judaism."

The group seemed unsure and looked to their priest.

_O for that warning voice, which he who saw_

_Th' Apocalyps, heard cry in Heaven aloud,_

_Then when the Dragon, put to second rout,_

_Came furious down to be reveng'd on men,_

_Wo to the inhabitants on Earth! that now,_

Fury and fury alone decorated the priest's face, a red shade upon the once rosy pallor of his cheeks.

"Leave."

Arthur stood, as did Alfred.

"Alfred, where do you think you are going?" The green-eyed teenager turned to the blue-eyed one, watching as he gathered his backpack up, placed the Bible back on the nearby table, taking the one that Arthur had from the other's hands and placing it there as well.

The priest resembled one of the dragons from Arthur's old faerie tale books. "I ask again, where do you think you are going?"

"I hate this group." Others gasped and others backed away, while the priest and Arthur both stood in shock. "I hate coming here and hearing how much people are hated just because their life isn't normal or accepted or right." Alfred grabbed Arthur by the wrist and began to push others away, though not too hard, to make a path to the door.

"What about your mother, Alfred?"

_Now Morn her rosie steps in th' Eastern Clime_

_Advancing, sow'd the earth with Orient Pearle,_

_When Adam wak't, so customd, for his sleep_

_Was Aerie light, from pure digestion bred,_

_And temperat vapors bland, which th' only sound_

Alfred stopped, as did Arthur.

Why was Alfred's mother being brought up now?

"Your mother is concerned for the safety of your soul, Alfred." The priest approached, removing Arthur's wrist from Alfred's grasp. The British child didn't speak.

"You've been doing so well, Alfred." The priest laid a hand on the lad's shoulder. "Your papers and prayers have been phenomenol and the talk I had with your mother at your home was positive and hopeful. The association that you had before with the homosexual society is almost gone. The memories that you have of your father-"

A loud slap was heard. The priest backed away, almost aghast. Arthur stared at Alfred. He had hit one of the chairs, knocking it to the side. Blue eyes, almost like lightning due to the glow of anger behind them, glared at the priest.

"Don't take about my dad like he's going to Hell or like he's a bad person." Alfred pulled his hand back from the position that he had left it in when he hit the chair and Arthur could see an angry red welt forming, something that would probably become a bruise later.

"He's a good person, and he raised me to believe in God wholeheartedly, faithfully. This church... It's so hateful. I can't stand it." Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand this time, clasping it tightly in his, almost painfully so.

"You'd leave with this heretic?" they heard as Alfred placed his hand on the doorknob. Alfred turned.

"At least he's not a hypocrite."

They left.

_All night the dreadless Angel unpursu'd_

_Through Heav'ns wide Champain held his way, till Morn,_

_Wak't by the circling Hours, with rosie hand_

_Unbarr'd the gates of Light. There is a Cave_

_Within the Mount of God, fast by his Throne,_

* * *

><p>They ran to the bus stop, watching it pull up before they got there and running in when the doors opened, Alfred dropping some Mini-Tokens into the reader. The two boys went all the way to the back of the bus, the empty seats passing by them as they scurried down the lonely aisle.<p>

Alfred sat by the window, Arthur still standing and leaving him alone without a guide this time.

"Sit down; the bus is moving." He quickly sat next to the other, who stared out the window.

Arthur thought of what the other could possibly be feeling now. He obviously seemed attacked or at least offended by the teachings of the youth group. The question was why it took so long for the American to show his distaste and disgust for it. Was that why he asked Arthur to come, because he knew the Brit was outspoken enough to do something so outrageous in the setting? Alfred was never one to use others in such a way, though, always wanting to promote his independence and being loud and happy and... Well... This Alfred was more humble, softspoken, though still a bit loud, something that made Arthur smile. He was a different person, but the Alfred that had just defied the priest... That was the Alfred he missed.

"Alfred." Tired blue eyes gazed into his, tears spilling like pearls from their corners. "Alfred?"

Alfred leaned against the other, hiding his face against the cloth of Arthur's school blazer. "My mother is going to be so mad at me, Artie." That nickname, Arthur felt his chest pang at that.

_Descend from Heav'n Urania, by that name_

_If rightly thou art call'd, whose Voice divine_

_Following, above th' Olympian Hill I soare,_

_Above the flight of Pegasean wing._

_The meaning, not the Name I call: for thou_

Why on Earth did he miss that name? He hugged the other closely, resting his head on the blonde locks.

"Why would she be mad?"

Alfred sniffled softly.

"My dad..."

Arthur didn't know too much about the Jones family. The father, Neil Jones, had been a calm, kind, but stern man. He had been well-liked in Vandalia. Arthur remembered when Alfred came to school one day in eighth and said that his mother and father were getting a divorce. Mrs. Jones, Jordan, took Alfred to Kentucky soon after the school year was over, the same day as rumors held it. Neil had stayed in Vandalia before moving east to Bluff City, not too far away from here.

Alfred sat up a bit, still leaning on the other. "When I was twelve, I asked why he and Mom never had another kid. He explained that they wanted to adopt for a while, but they never had enough money. I asked him again because that answer had nothing to do with what I was asking. He..."

The Angel ended, and in Adams Eare

So Charming left his voice, that he a while

Thought him still speaking, still stood fixt to hear;

Then as new wak't thus gratefully repli'd.

What thanks sufficient, or what recompence

_Neil sighed. His son was so sharp. "Well, Alfred." He patted the seat next to him on the couch, waiting for his son to seat himself on the sofa. "The reason is... You've had sexual education right?"_

_Alfred smiled. "Yeah, Dad. I'm in public school. I know way more than I need to!" He loved that he was able to talk to his dad like this. When they both knew something, they could speak like equals._

_Neil chuckled. "Yes, and I wish you didn't." He ruffled the twelve-year-old's hair._

_"I'm going to tell you something. Your mother doesn't even know."_

_Alfred blinked and nodded, knowing to keep this between them. If mother didn't even know, it had to be a precious secret to keep._

_"Do you know my friend Derek?"_

"Alfred?" The boy blinked.

It wasn't 2053.

He wasn't twelve.

Daddy didn't tell him anything important.

His mother still loved him.

_No more of talk where God or Angel Guest_

_With Man, as with his Friend, familiar us'd_

_To sit indulgent, and with him partake_

_Rural repast, permitting him the while_

_Venial discourse unblam'd: I now must change_

Arthur frowned as the other spoke.

"What were we talking about?"

"Your mother... and something about your parents wanting to adopt."

Alfred blinked. "My mother was fertile... but my father wasn't. It bothered my parents to the point that my mother thought that he didn't want her to get pregnant. She thinks that Christian families should do the 'be fruitful and multiply' business. So they divorced."

Arthur stared at the other. It seemed believeable, as the crazy ranting honestly made him believe almost anything of this crazy faith. However...

"Hey, guys. We're back in town. Where do you want to go?" The bus driver yawned a bit. It was his last round for the night, no more picking anyone up. Might as well drop these boys wherever they needed to be.

"Umm..." Alfred looked to Arthur. "Do you still live on 32nd Street?"

Arthur nodded. "And you moved back to your old house?" A nod.

"Can you drop us off on 10th Avenue?"

They honestly didn't live that far apart. It was just a rather tiring walk from the top of the hill that Alfred lived on to the bottom where Arthur lived.

"All right."

_No more of talk where God or Angel Guest_

_With Man, as with his Friend, familiar us'd_

_To sit indulgent, and with him partake_

_Rural repast, permitting him the while_

_Venial discourse unblam'd: I now must change_

* * *

><p>Arthur walked into his house, ignoring the smell of rum left out on the counter in small shot glasses and brown bottles.<p>

"Where ya bin, boy?" Lance Kirkland stood from the armchair that was his almost constant companion when he was intoxicated. Arthur wrinkled his nose, smelling the rank alcohol around the older Kirkland. At least when Arthur drank, he didn't completely forget his manners or modsty.

"I was with a friend, Dad." His heart panged a bit.

Alfred couldn't really see his father, could he? Not if his mother was so stern.

And Arthur couldn't see his mother.

"Come 'ere," Lance cooed to his son. The fifteen-year-old approahed his father, knowing it was better to get it over with.

When Lance cradled his son's face in his hands, he was pleased that it looked so much like his wife's.

He cared not for God.

_Meanwhile the hainous and despightfull act_

_Of Satan done in Paradise, and how_

_Hee in the Serpent, had perverted Eve,_

_Her Husband shee, to taste the fatall fruit,_

_Was known in Heav'n; for what can scape the Eye_

He moaned as he forced Arthur to kneel in front of the armchair, his blonde head between the father's legs and bobbing up and down rapidly. His alcohol-ridden mind made him think of his dates with Neva, licking her milky flesh, moaning as her tongue the amazing things that his son managed to mimic perfectly, her beautiful thighs wrapping around his waist.

Their wedding night...

Their honeymoon...

He came hard into his child's mouth, pleased as Arthur swallowed the essence from his flaccid cock, not being able to hold up long due to the alcohol in his system. He walked over to his room, which was the first door in the hallway, and passed out promptly on his bed.

Arthur went to the bathroom to gargle and get the taste of his father's cum from his mouth. He then went to his room to contemplate Alfred and his troubles while doing his homework. He fell asleep after putting all of his things away and fell asleep under the covers with his clothes on, knowing his second uniform was ready.

Dad forgot to pay the heating bill again.

* * *

><p>Alfred walked in to his home, seeing his mother on the couch.<p>

Along with Jodie.

Jordan cleared her throat. "Where have you been? Did you take the bus?"

Alfred nodded.

"Your counselor, the priest, called. Who was that boy you were with?"

Alfred bit his lip, watching his mother and Jodie stare into him, attempting to burn their words into his skin.

Dissenter.

Demon.

Faggot.

Unrepenting.

"He was just a friend. I wanted him to come to group." Jodie stood, walking over to Alfred and, wrapping his arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly.

"Why a boy? Why not a girl?"

Alfred swallowed, closing his eyes and turning from Jodie, not even glancing at his mother.

"I wanted him to join is all. He's a good friend."

Jodie smiled, as did Jordan.

"All right," Jordan said, pleased. She pointed upstairs, to where Alfred knew her gaze was looking to the guest room. The one that no one had ever used.

Except for him and Jodie.

Alfred followed Jodie upstairs, waving to his mother.

_Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood_

_Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above_

_Prevenient Grace descending had remov'd_

_The stonie from thir hearts, & made new flesh_

_Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breath'd_

* * *

><p>Alfred felt the tears pour down his face, shivering as Jodie licked them away. Her cunt wrapped tightly around his cock, like a constrictor, making it far more painful than pleasureable.<p>

But Jodie thought he liked it, and she liked it too. That's honestly what mattered most.

He let his thoughts drift and he felt his body react to hers, thrusting to meet her hips, his mouth open and loud with primal, base, desirous moans. She bent down to kiss him, a sloppy, wet kiss.

He thought of his father, his mother, and that person.

He felt his seed fill up her cunt, making her cum as well.

She was fine; his mother helped her choose the best birth control pills in the market.

He had one final thought before he came back to his body.

_As one who in his journey bates at Noone,_

_Though bent on speed, so heer the Archangel paus'd_

_Betwixt the world destroy'd and world restor'd,_

_If Adam aught perhaps might interpose;_

_Then with transition sweet new Speech resumes._

Fuck you, Arthur.

* * *

><p>30 March 2012 - 9:26 PM<p>

1) Why I chose Paradise Lost: We read the first book in class and I found it fascinating.

2) The mob mentality: This is the reason I can't really come out to my entire family. My cousins, they could care less and come to me for advice a lot. The older generation... Sigh...

3) Spider's web - From a sermon by Johnathan Edwards "**Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God**"

4) Reference to royalty again. Royals (Kings and Queens) commonly addressed themselves as "We," as to equate themselves with a collective group. This makes sense as they are the chief citizens of nations, much like the President, though s/he uses "I" to show that he stands alone, but represents many.

5) I don't like radicals in religion.

6) When we read part of the Old Testament, we learned that God was jealous and wrathful. In the New Testament, there's so much love in God. That's what we learned. Feel free to argue. I'm not a theologian nor do I plan to go into it.

7) Some people don't like that Alfred calls Arthur "Artie" or "Iggy" in fanfiction. Well, America never said Iggy in canon, so I agree a bit there. Artie is similar to Alfie, a nickname for Alfred. Artie also brings Arthur down to his true age, as he usually acts way older than how he truly is. They are then on the same level (in physical and mental age, anyway).

8) Alfred's daddy will return :)

9) Poor Arthur. :(

10) For anyone that didn't get it: Jordan (Alfred's mom) has asked a girl named Jodie to forcibly have sex with her son. She believes that Alfred might turn gay and that Jodie would turn him straight. Counter-productive, yes?

Or is it?


	6. Diary of Jane

1 April 2012 - 8:49 AM

Silly me, I almost started on chapter 7 before chapter 6. XP

Rating: T

Warnings: Nothing should come as a surprise now. My sister is also picking the dates for the next few chapters. Somehow she keeps getting Wednesday.

Disclaimer: Diary of Jane is a song written by Breaking Benjamin

* * *

><p>Chapter 6: Diary of Jane<p>

* * *

><p>It was Wednesday, November 22, 2056<p>

Alfred and Arthur had begun to meet up after school, either at the library or at the old Starbucks that Vandalia still had. They would talk about homework or personal matters that were quietly spoken of in French. Their grades went up actually; with Arthur understanding more English and history and Alfred understanding science and math, they were able to help each other with what they didn't understand. When they looked for books on their hobbies on days when they had no homework, it became a scavenger hunt or game while at the library. Books piled on their usual table while they sat together studying, talking, enjoying each other's company to the fullest.

Today, Alfred didn't grab a space book like he usually did. He sat a bit eagerly as Arthur sat down at the table, having needed to return some books. As the British boy approached, Alfred stood.

"Arthur..."

Said boy looked at his friend. "Yes?" Alfred smiled at the other, as though he had a surprise for the other.

"Would you like to go see my dad with me?" Arthur blinked. Alfred's father? The man wasn't too far away, and he didn't really want to go home today.

"All right. Will your mother wonder where you are?"

Alfred shook his head smiling. "She's off on a business trip until next Wednesday. Everything is scheduled and she gave me a copy of the itinerary." He smiled, his eyes closed. "Today was our last day, because of Thanksgiving, so maybe your dad could let you stay the weekend too. How about it?"

He really didn't want to go home.

"All right. I'll just stop by my house to get some things and meet you at your house."

* * *

><p>Arthur was glad that his father wasn't there when he got home. He was probably getting drunk up his arse. After doing that his father wouldn't come home for two weeks.<p>

Such an attentive father.

* * *

><p>Alfred and Arthur walked from the former's house to the bus stop. From there, the bus took them to the post office. By there was a taxi business. They walked inside.<p>

"Is there someone available that could take us to Bluff City?"

* * *

><p>Alfred helped Arthur out of the car, both boys carrying duffel bags that held enough clothes for two days along with their pajamas. As the taxi left, Arthur turned to the large house. It was a pale green, a lovely shade of the color, with a darker shade for the shutters and frames for doors and windows. Everything was beautiful, unlike his home.<p>

Alfred turned to the other. "Come on. My dad said he wouldn't be home, but Derek is."

Arthur followed the other boy up the . "Are they roommates?"

Alfred nodded. "They've been friends since they were our age. They're super close." A blue 2053 Ford pick-up truck came in the long driveway. Alfred and Arthur stood still for a moment, watching a kind looking man with brown hair step out of the vehicle.

"Derek!" Alfred cheered, waving to the man. The man paused, having heard his name, before grinning. He quickly came over to the boy.

"Alfred!" He held the teen tightly. Arthur saw now that Derek was a rather attractive man. It honestly wouldn't surprise him if...

Derek looked at the other boy. "You must be the friend that Alfred told me and Niel about. Arthur, right?" He held out a hand, ready to shake. "It's nice to meet you."

Arthur grasped the hand.

"It's nice to meet you, too."

He smiled.

* * *

><p>The three went inside for a snack before dinner. They talked about fun things, some stressful things, personal things that weren't too personal, but embarrassing.<p>

Arthur and Alfred sat in the kitchen when Derek went to go answer the door. "It's probably your father, Alfie."

"Alfie?" Arthur teased.

Alfred pouted at the other. "Yes, Artie. Derek calls me that because he's like my step-dad."

Arthur blinked. "St-"

"Alfred?" The boy stood, extending his hand to Arthur.

"Come meet my dad."

As they walked towards the door after turning around the corner to the main corridor, Arthur understood everything.

Why Alfred truly loved his father and felt he accepted him more than his mother did.

Why the church didn't accept Neil, nor Alfred now.

Why Derek was his step-father.

"Did you have a nice day, hun?" Derek asked

"Yes, mother." Neil answered, kissing Derek on the mouth sweetly. "You're hiding somethin-" Neil turned to the two boys.

"Surprise!"

"Alfred!" Neil rushed to hug his child close, Arthur stepping away a bit to let them hold each other.

"Dad..." He returned the embrace, happy to have his father near.

Neil held his son out at arm's length. "You told me you'd be here tomorrow." He looked to the British boy. "So this is the boy you always talk about."

Alfred blushed as Neil held out his hand. "Dad!"

Arthur shook Neil's hand. This man was so kind.

He smiled.

* * *

><p>For the rest of their stay, Arthur and Alfred enjoyed their time with Neil and Derek. The two men told the kids of their days in school and fanciful things.<p>

When they were watching a movie on Saturday night, Alfred and Derek asleep on on the couch together, Neil and Arthur sat next to each other on the two-seated couch.

"How much do you like Alfred, Arthur?" The boy blushed.

"What do you mean?"

"Come now. You're spending five days, four nights at a boy's father's house. You've had to like my son for a while to trust him so much." Neil smiled.

Arthur looked down. "I... Since we met in third grade. He was the only one besides Francis that didn't bully me because of my eyebrows, my accent, or anything else..."

Neil patted his shoulder. "He's still afraid. Even if he doesn't return your feelings, which I'm sure he does, could you take care of him?"

Arthur nodded.

"Of course."

* * *

><p>That night, he and Alfred shared a room, Alfred having stupidly agreed to watching a freakish zombie movie.<p>

"Sorry. I like horror movies, but I get really bad nightmares unless I sleep with someone." Arthur hugged the other, putting his chin on Alfred's head. Alfred's arms wrapped around him and Arthur felt his heart skip a bit.

"It's okay. I'll keep you safe."

The two had sweet dreams.

* * *

><p>1 April 2012 - 3:24 PM<p>

Some happiness! :3


	7. Super Luv

31 March 2012 - 5:40 PM

Warnings: Well, nothing should come as a surprise now, though child prostitution is now involved. LONG CHAPTER

Beware of Dub-Con!

:3 I just got Netflix and now I'm addicted to BBC's **Sherlock**. New fandom! But I won't write anything. Not until I finish all my other fics.

See how much I love you all? ^^

6 April 2012: Damn. I have an entire story for a Sherlock fic in my mind. I will resist the temptation for you.

7 April 2012: Make that two ideas. Dammit!

12 April 2012: I'm so sorry, my loves. I've created a tumblr based fic for Sherlock. Please go read it. (holmes-deduction. tumblr. com)

Disclaimer: Super Luv is an original song by Shane Dawson (look it up. I love it)

* * *

><p>Chapter 7: Super Luv<p>

* * *

><p>It was Wednesday, December 13, 2056.<p>

_I'm running out of time_  
><em>I hope that I can save you somehow<em>

Arthur sat down in French class, first period. He was staring at Alfred across the room. The boy was drawing again. Alfred lifted his head and his eyes met with Arthur's. He smiled and lifted his head. The lesson continued, something about finals.

In third period, the second half of a two-hour class, they were studying the Reformation and the positives of the Gutenberg Press.

"You all did really well on your papers. I know you'll do well on the finals." The teachers, Mr. Conroy and Mr. Schou, were always encouraging. As were a lot of the teachers. It made Arthur comfortable at school.

Math was easy.

Alfred sat with Arthur in the library during lunch, whispering about things that engaged them so readily now that winter break was going to start.

It was one day that rumours began.

_Arthur Kirkland's a fag._

_He goes to the Soma houses to whore himself out._

_He's a junkie._

_He has sex with the teachers; that's why they're so head over heels when he asks for something at student council._

_I bet he'd spread his legs out for anyone._

_If I...  
>If I had superpowers<em>  
><em>I'd safe the world and you would be mine<br>Mine_

He thought Arthur didn't (need to) know.

* * *

><p>"Hey, wanna come over to my house?"<p>

Alfred looked up. Arthur had never invited him over before. He talked about how his father usually had quite a bit of booze in his system and...

"My father won't be home. He's gone pub jumping again."

Arthur's dad would do that thing that alcoholics did sometimes: Stay at the pubs and bars and just move from one to another, just to stay near the alcohol.

His brothers-

"My brothers moved out last week. I wanted to tell you but the winter parties kept me busy." Arthur's cheeks reddened. Why would they do that?

"All right."

_Have no fear, your hero is here_  
><em>My supersense is telling me that danger is near<br>I'm getting close to you so I can watch your back_  
><em>A villain's on the loose and he is ready to attack<em>

* * *

><p>Alfred and Arthur sat on the couch of the rather bleak and empty living of the cold and heartless Kirkland home. They were playing old DVDs. Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman played Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John H. Watson in BBC's old <strong>Sherlock<strong> TV show.

Arthur was leaning against Alfred. They had finals tomorrow, Friday, and Monday. It was nice to relax.

"He loved that," Arthur chuckled. Benedict was such a good Sherlock Holmes, and he played such a strange man so well.

"Mm-hmm." Alfred was staring intently at the screen. Arthur saw this.

"Do you like it?"

"This is so... captivating." Alfred tilted his head, bending forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. He really loved the cinematography and the script. He had always wanted to go into theatre and film, but his mother...

He sighed.

"Alfred?" Arthur sat up and patted his shoulder. "Are-"

"Arthur!"

The boys stopped.

Arthur's father wasn't supposed to be home.

"He-"

"I-"

The father appeared in the doorway. He looked at Alfred, then at Arthur. He beckoned his son closer with a finger. Arthur swallowed softly, lifting the remote to pause the DVD.

_Oh, but I'm not a superhero_  
><em>I'm not that kind of guy<em>  
><em>But I can save you, baby, give me a try.<em>

"Hello, father." Arthur stood up and began to fix his clothing.

"Is he a customer?"

Alfred paused his own standing up.

Customer?

Arthur bit his lip.

"Twenty dollars, father."

Mr. Kirkland held out his hand. Arthur reached into his pocker and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

Alfred stopped. As he saw Arthur walk over to his father, who ruffled his hair, the booze smell almost contaminating Arthur, he realized something.

_Cause I'm running out of time _  
><em>I know what I came to do<br>And I didn't come to lose!_  
><em>So I'll fight until you're mine <em>  
><em>And if trouble comes around I won't be backing down, tonight<em>

Those rumors...

Arthur never said anything about them.

He just didn't look Alfred in the eyes when someone passed them saying those things.

Like he was guilty.

"Come here, Arthur."

The two Kirklands walked into the kitchen, out of Alfred's vision, even when he turned around.

A slap was heard, and a low voice.

"You little slut! Bringing people home now? I won't have you with customers in my house."

"I-" He heard Arthur grunt, making him stand.

More hushed whispers. Arthur came out of the kitchen, his father using the back door in the kitchen to leave the house.

Arthur walked over to Alfred, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay."

"Customer?"

Arthur looked down.

"It's what he calls the people I have sex with."

_Ooooooooh, if you're in danger_  
><em>I'm here to save you<em>  
><em>Ooooooooh, that's what I'm made of<em>  
><em>Give you my superlove<em>

Alfred sat down.

Arthur didn't look at Alfred. "I'm a whore. All of those rumours are true. My father started selling me for money when I was little so that he could get his ale and beer. I usually get money when I have sex, so that pleases him. I just can't do that here." He clenched his fists. "I guess the sex that I have now... It makes me feel secure, that _**I**_ control what I do and who I do it with, not him."

Alfred looked at Arthur, really examined him.

"My brothers... They're always with friends so they don't know... It's not like they care at all... If they ever did something nice for me, it was so I didn't tell anyone at school about how they would lock me in the closet when they threw their little parties or how much they beat me up when Mum left."

His uniform was always pressed beautifully, but he could tell that he only had one, whereas every other student had two, from frequent use. He looked at Arthur's neck, seeing some inconsistency in color where his jaw ended; the smallest change in tint, due to make-up. Arthur's eyes looked so tired, probably from stress. That's when he noticed that one cheek was puffier than the other, just a bit. Also... There were small purple marks on the other's neck, some turning green or yellow. They looked like fingers. The make-up on them was rubbing off on Arthur's shirt collar, a rainbow exposed from the pale Ivory 3.

Arthur froze when Alfred stood up to hug him, as though he was the boy's favourite toy.

"I'll save you."

Arthur let the tears finally fall.

* * *

><p><em>Fighting for your love for all this time<em>  
><em>What I gotta do to make you mine<em>  
><em>Got no super speed, but I'm running this town<em>  
><em>If you get in my way, Im'ma take you down<em>

Alfred stayed close to Arthur when he could at school.

Rumors about him didn't matter at all and he knew it.

As long as it didn't make it back home to Mother, he was fine.

Jodie kept on making her more frequent, scheduled visits.

So he missed his mother a bit more.

* * *

><p>Alfred and Arthur were walking to the library in the rain. The Hydro-buses passed them without the drivers being complete arseholes and splashing them. They took their usual shortcut.<p>

"Well, well."

Some players, three, from the American football team trailed behind them. Alfred stopped and turned. Arthur felt his heart pick up in its pacing.

As much as homophobes tended to be... Well... Homophobic, there is the finest line between homophobic because of something traumatic or spiritual, and homophobic because one is afraid of accepting it.

Accepting that you are the thing that people are taught to hate.

Gay.

But these supposed homophobic athletes accepted it outside of school.

With him.

One of the players came forward, pushing Alfred aside, and kissing Arthur's boldly. He pushed at the other, raising his fist and being blocked by the taller boy.

_Oh, but I'm not a superhero _ _I'm not that kind of guy _ _But I can save you, Baby, give me a try._

"Hey, kitty." Arthur held back the sudden urge to vomit as a fist connect with his stomach, hitting his organs and almost forcing partially digested lunch food up his esophagus, out his mouth, and onto the dirty pavement of this alleyway.

"We don't fuck you to get your- What do you want?" Arthur looked up as Alfred punched the football player to the ground.

"Leave him the fuck alone." Alfred positioned himself in front of Arthur, a shield.

The quarterback, the second of the three, laughed. "You, Jones? You want to have a round with this whore?"

The third gasped. "That's what you two have been sneaking off to do, right? Stupid fags."

Alfred frowned. "Then what does you raping Arthur make you?"

The first one, the one that Alfred had punched, stood and grabbed Alfred's shirt. The other two walked towards Arthur, slowly.

"We're teenagers; we crave sex. And it's not rape." He turned towards Arthur. "Right, Kirkland?"

Arthur couldn't answer, forced against the wall of one of the apartment buildings on either side of them. He was being kissed by the quarterback, his belt being unbuckled by the other. His legs looked as though they would give way, weak in fear.

Alfred punched the same athlete again and pushed the others away from Arthur, standing in front of him.

The athletes laughed. "You think you can stop us from doing what we want? Your mother is incredibly easy to contact, considering she won't stop talking about being so in church."

Alfred stood still, eyes glowering. The football players seemed put off by this.

The quarterback came forward, smirking and a fist out.

_Cause I'm running out of time _ _I know what I came to do _ _And I didn't come to lose! _ _So I'll fight until your mine _ _And if trouble comes around I won't be backing down, tonight_

Arthur gasped as Alfred's fist flew out, striking the other boy in the jaw and sending him to the ground again.

All three other Americans nervously left.

At least, that's what he observed.

Because Alfred dragged him to the police station.

In shock, he listened as Alfred pleaded that he tell the police everything.

He agreed.

Because Alfred saved him.

* * *

><p><em>Ooooooooh, if you're in danger<em> _I'm here to save you_ _Ooooooooh, that's what I'm made of_ _Give you my superlove_

Arthur sat across from the social worker. His father had been tried for child abuse. The boys had been suspended for bullying and assaulting of a fellow student. His brothers were too young to take him... They didn't want him anyway.

"Is there any relative that can take you?"

Arthur shook his head.

The worker sighed.

"Is there anyone that you want to stay with?"

Arthur looked up, biting his lip.

"Neil Jones, from Bluff City."

The worker blinked twice. "You mean Alfred Jones' father?"

"Is there something wrong?"

_Can't you see were meant to be _ _So come with me _ _Say you're mine _ _Don't keep me waiting_

He chuckled. "No. Not at all. It's just that Neil lost the custody battle I was assigned to for his son... and he's going to be taking care of another kid."

Arthur blinked. "Really?"

The worker signed the papers and gave them to Arthur to sign. "Let's just make sure this flies well with him."

Neil was overjoyed.

It was Wednesday, December 20, 2056.

* * *

><p>Alfred went across town on the Hydro-bus to see his dad's new house. Now that Neil, Derek, and Arthur lived together, he had an excuse to go see the teen and his father a lot.<p>

And he was happy.

_Cause I'm running out of time_ _I know what I came to do_ _And I didn't come to lose!_ _So I'll fight until your mine_ _And if trouble comes around I won't be backing down, tonight_

* * *

><p>It was Sunday, December 31, 2056. 6:25 PM<p>

It was New Year's Eve and Arthur had invited Alfred to a soma house. Alfred had heard of those places and was hesitant. Arthur promised him he'd keep him safe, since he already knew the Regulars and was a Regular himself. Arthur had told him that he's used fake ID's to get Soma, but he wouldn't tonight for Alfred's sake.

Alfred waited in the living room of his father's house. His mother was on another trip and wouldn't be back for two days. She had given him money and access to the debit card, in case he wanted to buy something cool.

He wondered if Jodie was going to be running the house from now on.

_Ooooooooh, if you're in danger_

Arthur came down in skinny jeans, a vintage "Shinee" shirt, and old-school Converse shoes. "Are you ready to go?"

Alfred looked up at the other. He seemed so dangerous and sexual.

Alfred felt conscious in his boot-cut jeans, Batman shirt, and Nike's.

"Okay.

* * *

><p>7:30 PM<p>

Alfred and Arthur laughed heartily, sitting down to drink a bit of the sparkling grape juice that was being served to all of the minors, all of them wearing their special ID's around their wrists. They were on their second cup, having drunk the first before dancing.

"This is awesome!" Arthur smiled at Alfred's exclamation. His eyes were bright and blue behind his glasses. The boy's tan body was sweating, not horribly, but in a way that made Arthur's mouth water. He would always want sex, wouldn't he? He could never be like Alfred, so pious and pure.

"Arthur?" His green eyes met blue and he noticed that he had been staring too hard at Alfred, making the other uncomfortable.

"Sorry!"

"No, it's fine. You just looked kind of sad." Alfred sipped some of his Coke-Negative, an energy drink that Coca-Cola made for athletes. Arthur assumed that he had bought it while he was staring. The grape juice cup was gone.

"I'm fine, really." On instinct, he reached across and held the other's free hand, both hands just lying on the table, one on top of the other. Alfred paused and returned the hold.

"Allo!"

They turned and saw Francis approaching them. Mathieu and Miguel accompanied him.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Al!" Mathieu cheered, coming up and hugging his cousin. Miguel gave a small wave to the American. Today was no day to fight with the younger boy.

"Artie invited me." Arthur pouted.

"My name's not Artie, _Alfie_." Alfred smiled. The other three teens went on their way, Francis wishing them luck on their fun night.

"I know. I don't really know why I called you that, Arthur." Arthur shivered. Alfred just saying his name was making him shiver.

"All right." He then flinched away when Alfred squeezed his hand a bit too tightly. "Alfred?"

Alfred shook his head. "I... I took some Soma."

Arthur balked. "Alfred, you didn't-!"

"A guy on the rugby team gave me them. I took it with the first grape juice." That explained the sweating.

Arthur took the other's hand. "Follow me." They went towards the back, seeing an empty room, a "closet," and taking the key to it, locking it behind them. Arthur whined inwardly as he noticed that this was an adult room.

_I'm here to save you_

_Ooooooooh, that's what I'm made of_ _Give you my superlove X 5_

Alfred sat on the bed, uncomfortable. "Arthur..." His voice was whiny and alluring to Arthur. When Arthur came to sit down next to him, Alfred shifted away.

"Alfred?" Arthur laid a hand on the younger boy's shoulder and saw the other's problem.

He was aroused.

"Let go," Alfred all but whimpered, shaking. His eyes were screwed shut in discomfort and fear.

Arthur could relate.

"I'll go get you some water to try and cool you down." As Arthur attempted to stand, he was stopped by Alfred's arms. They were wrapped tightly about his waist. He exhaled sharply as he was brought down again. "Al?"

Lips pressed against his and Arthur stopped breathing.

Alfred was kissing him.

Sweet, lovely, innocent Alfred was kissing him.

When they separated, Arthur was panting harshly and Alfred had tears pouring down his face.

"It's all your fault!"

Arthur could breathe again.

"It's all your fucking fault, Arthur! If you hadn't moved here, my mother would leave me the fuck alone and everything would be fan-fucking-tastic! I'd be able to lie my way through church and with my mom, but you just have to be so..." Alfred kissed him again, but Arthur kissed back.

Was Alfred attracted to him?

It appeared so.

But he was crying.

He saw Alfred stand to leave. "I'll just go. I'm sorry."

And something in Arthur snapped.

* * *

><p>Alfred whimpered as Arthur tied his wrists to the bed posts. "Arthur- Nngh!" Why on Earth was there rope in the bedside drawer.<p>

Arthur had pressed his hand between his legs and made Alfred see stars and cry out a name.

"Jodie!" He shook his head. Not her. Why did he call her name? Maybe because she's the only one who he's ever had sex with before.

"No, Alfred." He roughly kissed the American boy, undoing the boy's trousers and wrapping a hand around the weeping erection, proud of what he was doing to Alfred. He pumped it quickly, wanting Alfred to call his name. When he pulled out of the kiss, Alfred's eyes were half-lidded, his tongue still out of his open mouth, wanting to tango with Arthur's again, drool dripping out from the corner of his lips, a debauched, naughty boy look.

"I can't! Arthur, I can't!"

What would his mother-

Alfred bit his lip and cried out Arthur's name (finally) when warm lips enclosed his prick. His hips wanted to thrust up into that heat, but they were held down by Arthur's hands. After a few moments, he spilled his seed into Arthur's mouth, though he was still a bit hard when Arthur released him.

_And all you really need..._ _Has been right in front of you this whole time_

Arthur swallowed all of the white fluid and kissed Alfred, some semen traveling to the other's mouth, and the two shared Alfred's semen in a strange sense of intimacy that they seemed familiar to already.

Alfred panted heavily, cock hardening again thanks to the Soma, as he watched Arthur reach into the drawer again, pulling out a bottle. Arthur stood on the floor, bottle in hand, and removed his jeans and underwear.

"Wha-?"

"Lube, love. Now hush." Arthur quickly poured some onto his hand, reaching back to slip three fingers, one at a time, into his ass hole. Once done, he grabbed a lubricated condom and slipped it onto Alfred. Diseases weren't anything they needed now.

"Wait, wait-"

"Alfred. I'm done waiting." Arthur straddled Alfred and kissed him as he lowered himself down onto the other's cock, groaning at the heat, pleasure, and pain that he felt has his tight muscles moved and gave way from the large phallus that was slowly filling him.

Alfred whimpered.

He wasn't gay.

He couldn't be.

But why was he trying so hard not to moan as he felt all of Arthur around him?

_And I, I didn't need no superpowers..._ _I saved the world and now you are mine_

Arthur, once fully relaxed and ready, moved his hips up and then down on his crush of two years. Eighth grade, they'd been so close. One day, Arthur woke up to have his night clothes messied with semen after a dream of Alfred.

Alfred moaned. "Arthur..."

Fuck Mom, God, the Devil, the whole damn universe...

Arthur was doing this to him.

And he wasn't scared.

Alfred and Arthur repeated each other's names like a mantra, a strange incoherent mess of sounds, that began to fill the room like a fog.

They reached orgasm, Alfred finishing before Arthur, but they didn't really care.

They called out each other's names.

And they fell asleep, still connected.

It was the first time in a long while that Alfred didn't have nightmares.

Before they fell asleep, Arthur looked down at Alfred.

"You're gay."

"No."

"Denial."

"No."

"It doesn't matter." Arthur kissed him tenderly.

"Why?"

"No matter how you think of it,

_"Now you're mine"_

* * *

><p>12 April 2012 - 10:18 PM<p>

1) Yep, that was History class sophomore year for me :3 I miss it.

2) Rumors fucking suck.

3) Poor Arthur! Rainbow bruises: Common sign in (child, in this case) abuse.

4) If anyone notices, I use British English for Arthur and American English for Alfred. Just seeing if anyone picks that up.

5) Go, Alfred!

6) Arthur has no one to take care of him. The custody man is connected to an adoption agency, so he is able to pull some powerful strings.

7) Sigh... Soma. The ID's I picture to be cards with numbers (to keep track of them all) that keep the alcohol away from the kids. They have a small padlock on them. The age for a soma house is 15 and up, so Arthur and Alfred are some of the youngest there.

8) God dammit, Alfred! Why'd you take the Soma? It's like going in the Orgas-matron! (Reference to the **Sleeper** movie - My teacher showed us it in class. My teacher is f-ing awesome.)

9) Yeah. Sex happened.

10) This is why I say Alfred isn't gay. He doesn't see himself that way, and self-identity, I think, is the most important part of sexuality. When I was in middle school, I still viewed being bi as a stigma because I was young and of how I was raised. Now it doesn't bother me at all; I embrace it.

PLEASE REVIEW :3


	8. The Morning After

24 April 2012 - 6:24 PM

My friend got me into Pottermore.

Moo!

House :D I love Hugh Laurie.

Warnings: After-Drugged-Sex Talk

I sense a disappearance of reviews. :(

Listening to « Belle » again. I'm shivering. I GOT CHILLS :3

2 May 2012: Girlfriend broke up with me today. My parents don't give a shit and see it as nothing that should've happened (I'm female) and so this depression might show here.

* * *

><p>Chapter 8: The Morning After<p>

* * *

><p>It was Monday, January 1, 2057.<p>

Arthur stared up at the ceiling. What did he just do?

He looked down at Alfred, who lay asleep with an arm around Arthur's waist. He was asleep peacefully, most likely because of the Soma that had burned off a lot of his energy... along with the sex.

How could he do that? How could he just claim Alfred wanted him sexually, unfluenced by Soma and off of it, and take him? He was a rapist.

And this "Jodie"... Wouldn't she be Alfred's girlfriend or someone close since Alfred grew up in a conservative home and wouldn't be thinking about randoms girls during sex; it would have to be someone who he's been wanting to fu- make love to... or someone he's been making love to...

He growled.

"Mmm..." He looked down. Alfred had opened one of his eyes and was staring at him as though he was high.

"Am I dreaming...?" Arthur closed his eyes as Alfred held a hand up to his face, the knuckles of his hand gently brushing at his cheek, making him shiver and shake with pleasure and calmness.

Arthur mirrored the action, tracing the pads of his fingers over Alfred's cheek. He went a bit further, tracing the division of the American's lips, shivering as Alfred took a two fingers into his mouth, making Arthur moan.

It was not so sensual as he would observe if it was anyone else. Alfred's cock was still inside of him, but neither teen was getting hard in this dream-like state. It was surreal. They were truly one being right now, not ending or beginning in any different spot, Arthur noted, as Alfred mimicked his action, pressing his fingers to Arthur's mouth. The Brit took them in and licked at them softly, almost tasting the flesh.

Alfred gently suckled on the fingers, still sleepy. Perhaps it relaxed him, just like a toddler with a pacifier or a bottle, but he took the fingers deeper and sucked on them a bit harder, his cheeks moving just like an infant's when given their first bottle feeding or breast feeding of the day. Hie eyes were hidden again by his eyelids and Arthur felt jealousy; this "Jodie" would most likely be allowed to see this weak moment in the rugby player, this moment of natural beauty that Arthur almost had difficulty of comprehending, wanting to touch the younger teen a bit more, his other cheek, nose, closed eyes, all at the risk of breaking the magical image.

Alfred let the fingers slip from his mouth.

"Arthur... We... We had sex... Didn't we?"

Arthur let the fingers go as well.

"Yes."

Alfred let his head fall to the side, eyes closed. His hands fell limp at his sides, and Arthur felt ice in his chest. Did Alfred feel so strongly about his heterosexuality? Did he really just rape his friend? Well, under legal terms, having sex with someone under the influence of drugs or another substance was rape. It didn't matter if he was a minor; he could be tried and convicted as a sex offender. He shook.

It felt like mercury was slipping down his throat, his voice having left him with that simple "Yes." How could he answer so simply? Was he truly a monster? Was he a demon as the priest had said? He had damned Alfred... right?

He braced his hands on each side of Alfred's torso and lifted his hips up, feeling the boy's penis slide out of him with a sick feeling in his stomach. He was filthy; Alfred was still beautiful and pure, a light surrounding his soul and keeping him safe from Arthur. Of course reality didn't look like that, but Arthur felt sick. If his father ever felt remorse, this is probably what he would feel like: a sick _**thing**_ of lust and greed and domination.

He crawled off of the other and went to get off the bed. He didn't expect arms to wrap around his arms and chest, effectively trapping him in the grasp of the American boy, who began to deliver kisses to the back of his neck. No. No! NO! _NO! **NO!**_

He started protesting out loud, trying to get away from the other. He didn't want this and Arthur didn't want to force him to do this at all. Alfred moved a bit and licked at a spot behind Arthur's ear, drawing a small whimper.

"Sto..." Arthur bit his lip. He didn't deserve it, didn't deserve to be shown mercy. He hadn't shown him any. Why did he feel victimized? Because he felt that Alfred almost led him on? When did he come like his father, to resemble him so closely?

"I... I can tell you everything." Words were whispered into his ear, strange noises that he somehow understood.

"Ev-everything?" A kiss to his ear.

"Why I'm doing this... Who Jodie is..."

Arthur closed his eyes.

"All right."

"At school."

The two left silently, playing it off as a rest in the "closet" due to tiredness from dancing.

Until school...

* * *

><p>It was Monday, January 8, 2057.<p>

Alfred sat in French class. There were new seats since second semester began today. He actually sat next to Arthur now. The little paper crane sat on Arthur's desk.

Arthur Kirkland walked into the classroom about two minutes before the bell rang. He found his seat and didn't look at Alfred, though he did spy the paper crane.

"Read it," whispered Alfred. Was he supposed to unfold it?

_You know, there's always_  
><em>That awkward moment<em>  
><em>A gentle chuckle<em>  
><em>Underneath a nervous look<em>  
><em>Daddy didn't expect it<em>

_To come out of his closet_  
><em>And leave me with Mom<em>  
><em>Or have her take me home<em>  
><em>In a little town of Tenessee<em>

_The whispers grew so rampant_  
><em>Of me and the boy next door<em>  
><em>That Mom called our God<em>  
><em>Demanding I be punished<em>

_That awkward moment_  
><em>A gentle chuckle<em>  
><em>Underneath a nervous look<em>  
><em>I didn't expect it<em>

_His legs are lovely_  
><em>In the class-assigned gym shorts<em>  
><em>He doesn't see me cry<em>  
><em>Blaming him for my attention<em>

_His ass, hair, eyes_  
><em>Those things that drive me insane<em>  
><em>And they create a special moment<em>  
><em>When I pray to God in tears<em>

_That night I tell mum and_  
><em>She rages and foams<em>  
><em>Praying again to God<em>  
><em>Kissing my strangeness away<em>

_That awkward moment_  
><em>A gentle chuckle<em>  
><em>Underneath a nervous look<em>  
><em>He didn't expect it<em>

_I am quiet, unlike me_  
><em>The me that he's familiar with<em>  
><em>I sing what he tells me to<em>  
><em>And everything is bliss<em>

_But my body heats up faster_  
><em>And mom's raping gets stronger<em>  
><em>Until I cry for her to let me go<em>  
><em>In orgasmic pleasure<em>

_He does the same to me_  
><em>I pray to God "No"<em>  
><em>I'm normal and pure and-<em>  
><em>I cum on his body, elated<em>

_That awkward moment_  
><em>A gentle chuckle<em>  
><em>Underneath a nervous look<em>  
><em>No one expected it<em>

Arthur looked over at the other, tears in his eyes.

"Arthur, could you read the next part of the story? Where the Phantom is introduced?"

"Oui, Madame..."

* * *

><p>"What do you mean by that line, '<em>And mom's raping gets stronger'<em>?" The two were eating lunch in the library, in one of the corners where it would be difficlut to see them.

"My mother's name is Jordan. The girl that she... pays to have sex with me, is named Jodie. Jodie is a nickname for Jordan."

Arthur looked at him. He said everything like it was inevitable.

"Your mother was afraid of you being gay because your father is?"

A nod. "I... I started having feelings... for you in middle school. About two months after we started school together... I had a dream about you..." He inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"After that happened, my father was seen with someone from church with Derek. They told my mother and she quickly divorced him after that. She made sure to get a judge that went to church with me and her. Mom and I went to Tenessee and we stayed there for a while.

"We didn't have reason to come back until my mother heard that I had kissed a boy. We didn't know what it'd be like to kiss a boy, since we'd already kissed girls before. I met Meimei soon after and her family moved to Vandalia at the same time we did. Mother wanted to leave as soon as she heard the rumors; she didn't like being associated with Dad and she wouldn't be associated with those rumors."

Arthur hesitantly laid a hand on his shoulder. "I..." He couldn't say shit.

"It's okay." Alfred says, laying a hand on Arthur's. "I... I've liked spending time with you and my Dad and Derek..." He grabbed Arthur's hand and almost seemed to bring it to his lips before setting it down on his own thigh.

"There's someone always watching, and they always know my mother," he explained. "But... I still want to be with you."

And Arthur wondered just how much authority Mrs. Jordan Jones had over his lover (?) that someone was always watching in her stead.

* * *

><p>It was Saturday, January 13, 2057.<p>

Arthur smiled. Alfred had left after having breakfast with him and his fathers. His mother was gone for two days and was arriving later today.

Neil was cleaning the table when he noticed an envelope. "What's this?" He looked at the receiver's address and name.

"Hmm, I guess Alfred brought Jodie's mail with him by accident."

Arthur, putting dishes away, dropped a glass.

Derek looked up from his place at the sink. "Arthur?"

"Who's 'Jodie'? How do you know her?"

Neil blinked.

"Jodie is Alfred's mother. I called her that when we had family outings. When Alfred was younger, she would let him call her Jodie when they played together."

"There's no younger girl that you know that could have that name?"

Neil walked over, bending down to pick up the glass.

"Arthur, only Jordan and Alfred live in that house and only they use that address. I've asked Alfred."

Neil held out the envelope.

"Jodie's name is on the envelope with their home address."

Arthur ran from the house.

* * *

><p>2 May 2012 - 6:00 PM<p>

1) I'm in creative writing now. I'm learning a lot about writing in those beautiful large paragraphs. It's fun.

2) This relationship isn't starting off well, is it?

3) The ballad is something I wrote on Facebook for Alfred on 20 March 2012 at 2:07 PM.

4) They are reading Phantom of the Opera. :3

5) Jordan, you fucking slut... and rapist


	9. And You are the one I've Dreamed of

12 May 2012 - 4:33 PM

My creative writing teacher has the page that has what was supposed to be this chapter on it.

So I'll do Alfred's part first.

14 May 2012 - 5:19 PM - My creative writing teacher lost the page :( I'll try to just write as awesomely as I did on that paper.

15 May 2012 - 4:16 PM - Just attended a 2 period long exhibition for being safe this Prom weekend. I cried.

WARNING: This chapter gets pretty bad.

* * *

><p>Chapter 9: And You are the one I've Dreamed of...<p>

* * *

><p>It was Saturday, January 13, 2057.<p>

Alfred walked into his house. Something felt off.

"Hello, sweetie." He looked up and saw his mother, Jordan, in the stairwell, standing on the third step from the bottom with a serious expression on her face.

"Mom? What's wrong?" She came towards him.

Her arms wrapped around him and pressed her lips to her son's lips.

His eyes closed and he tried to keep quiet.

His mother wasn't here.

When she pulled away, his lips burned with the strangest feeling of disgust. She pressed a hand to his cheek.

"Sweetie?" Jodie whispered.

"Yes, Jodie?" She smiled a bit at that. He could always tell when they were 'playing.'

"Who's that boy?"

* * *

><p>Alfred resisted the urge to scream.<p>

He was naked.

This was painful.

"Our Father, who art in heaven!"

His head was pushed down under the water in the tub. When he came up again for air, he coughed. Water had taken him by surprise.

He didn't like this baptism.

"I try doing this for you!" Jodie cried, gripping the hair by the base of his skull. It was painful, she knew, but if this is what it took for her damned son to repent...

He bit his lip as a bath sponge began to rub, scratch, claw at his skin.

"Keep praying!"

He was on the fifth Rosary bead.

"Ha-Hallowed be thy name..."

* * *

><p>Alfred was redressed into beautiful white clothes, ones that were similar to the outfit that his father had worn when he married Derek. He'd seen the pictures of both males smiling, kissing, so in love.<p>

He sat on his bed, well, was laying down on it. Jodie was lying on top of him, giggling and kissing him.

"Guess what, Alfred?"

"Yes, Jodie?"

She pulled out a creased piece of paper from what seemed to be nothing.

"I found this note in here~ It's a boy's handwriting..."

Oh God.

"Let me read it outloud."

_Alice stepped through it_  
><em>I flew it North by Northwest<em>  
><em>But he took no advice<em>  
><em>And ran through the Looking Glass<em>

_Mummy loved the colour green_  
><em>And was happy with my eyes<em>  
><em>And she flew about like a fearie<em>  
><em>Drew pictures with me<em>

_Daddy loved the colour gold_  
><em>And was happy with my hair<em>  
><em>And he was a stern, strong man<em>  
><em>Carried me on his shoulders<em>

_Alice stepped through it_  
><em>I flew it North by Northwest<em>  
><em>But he took no advice<em>  
><em>And ran through the Looking Glass<em>

_A boy loved green and gold_  
><em>So he should be happy with me<em>  
><em>But he never hugged me at all<em>  
><em>Not this whorish body<em>

_I never let him do so_  
><em>And I regret letting him go<em>  
><em>With his mum to Tenessee<em>  
><em>Because I really love him<em>

_His eyes that sparkle_  
><em>Those delicate smies<em>  
><em>Nothing has changed at all<em>  
><em>And my hand accompanies my dreams<em>

_Daddy hears and calls_  
><em>Bad touches haunt my nightmares<em>  
><em>And my Charming comes back<em>  
><em>And I cry myself to sleep<em>

_And that heretic priest_  
><em>Who damns my love<em>  
><em>Is shocked when my love leaves<em>  
><em>And is happier in sin than his Grace<em>

_Alice stepped through it_  
><em>I flew it North by Northwest<em>  
><em>But he took no advice<em>  
><em>And ran through the Looking Glass<em>

_He's quiet, unlike the him I knew_  
><em>But his heart is still in the right place<em>  
><em>And I tell him I missed him<em>  
><em>In my mind when he saved me, and cried<em>

_And my new parents are his_  
><em>Strange and legal; we're not related<em>  
><em>I blush as he sleeps with me<em>  
><em>Afraid of those horror films he likes<em>

_And when his body called for mine_  
><em>I wanted to cry in happiness<em>  
><em>Because I had found my Wonderland<em>  
><em>When we cried out each other's names<em>

_Alice stepped through it_  
><em>I flew it North by Northwest<em>  
><em>But he took no advice<em>  
><em>And ran through the Looking Glass<em>  
><em>With me, smiling<em>

"Why would a boy write this? And why wouldn't you show me what it was?" Jodie kissed her lips, pushing his shirt up and ignoring his rigid body. He was probably excited.

"I..." He turned away from his mother. She frightened him and he didn't want to keep looking at her, being drawn in by the fact that she was his mother and it was his duty as a son to honor her every wish.

"Look at me, baby." She gripped his chin and tried to turn his face. When it wouldn't budge, she huffed and struck him across the cheek that was facing her.

"You are a hateful and disobedient son! What happened to Lot's wife, who looked back at Sodom when it burned in God's wrath? She turned to salt because she disobeyed the Lord! When Saul disobeyed and insulted God, he blinded him! When Peter doubted the Lord, he denied him three times!" She turned his face finally and pressed her lips to his, shoving her tongue into his mouth and making him take part in the kiss.

She was surprised that he pushed against her.

"No!"

She looked at him, aghast.

"You filthy faggot. Just like your father." She stood up off the bed and grabbed his hair, pulling him off of the bed and taking him back to the bathroom.

_And lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil..._

* * *

><p>Arthur ran to the door of the house, the house that not only was dwelling to his friend, but of the rapist. He reached up a fist to knock on the door, but he then turned his head to see Alfred's mother's car in the driveway, the blue 2057 Lexus staring straight ahead with its headlights.<p>

She was home.

He reached for the doorknob and was shocked that the door was unlocked. Stepping inside, he looked around in the entrance foyer and saw Alfred's bag, where his pyjamas were stored. He walked inside further and looked into the living room, meeting the gaze of the wall mirror. It was cracked and the brown coffeetable was actually flipped over. Papers were strewn everywhere...

He walked up the stairs, hand on railing. He could hear water upstairs.

Arthur gulped. He saw a white jacket on the floor. Lifting it, he saw that it was Alfred's, judging by the name on the tag.

But that wasn't what frightened him.

"No..."

There was bright red blood staining the jacket, a few spots marring the delicate, pure fabric.

"You should be grateful that I love you this much..." Arthur heard and he looked up.

There was a splash of water and his heart sped up.

Please, God... No...

He walked over to what he assumed was the bathroom.

* * *

><p>"You filthy faggot. Just like your father." She stood up off the bed and grabbed his hair, pulling him off of the bed and taking him back to the bathroom.<p>

He whimpered, clutching at his scalp. He was frightened, paralyzed really. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed with all of his might.

* * *

><p>He walked over to what he assumed was the bathroom.<p>

While Arthur did so, he dialed a number on his phone. Three simple digits.

_"911, what's your emergency?"_

He whispered. "My friend is here in his house. There's blood on his jacket. The house is trashed. His mother's been raping him."

_"... Sir, the police will be over soon. If you need to, defend yourself, but **only** if you need to."_

He told her the address and ended the call. He told her that he would record the audio of whatever happened.

Arthur laid the phone just behind the open door of the bathroom.

He walked inside and saw water on the floor.

* * *

><p>He whimpered, clutching at his scalp. He was frightened, paralyzed really. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed with all of his might.<p>

She let go and saw Alfred try to get up. Jodie growled.

"Don't you see that I want to save you in any way that I can?" She grabbed one of the trophies for rugby that he had on the shelf, one that he had gotten in Tennessee. She broke it against the wall, the small figurine broken at a sharp angle.

Alfred tried to find his baseball bat, something to defend himself. His mother was physically fit and was strong, as she was about to drag him away for whatever reason.

He heard steps and found the bat against the wall. He gripped the handle before turning around a quarter turn and striking something solid (from the sound, he deduced that it was Jodie's leg).

He felt pain in the side of his neck. Alfred looked up to Jodie's hand and saw the bloody figurine piece.

Jodie took his moment of shock to grab his head with her free hand and slam it against the wall, knocking him unconscious, she saw, as he fell to the ground, unresponsive and some blood staining his pure white coat.

"Look what you made me do, sweetie. You're dirty inside and out now."

She began to half-carry, half-drag him to the bathroom.

"Time to clean you again."

She opened the door.

"And welcome you to God's grace."

* * *

><p>He walked inside and saw water on the floor.<p>

Arthur looked up and saw Jodie holding something in the bathtub, which was only halfway full of water.

And Alfred's body was attached to whatever she was holding.

"Who are you?" Arthur looked at Jodie.

"The boy that loves your son."

She stood, fury in her eyes. Alfred fell out of the tub, coughing but still not responding really to the sounds and conflict in the room and air around him.

"You're the one that caused everything." She was ready to hit him, arm up and hand in a fist as she rushed to him. He moved out of the way and let her stumble.

He went to grab an aerosol can of hair spray and hit her head with it.

Jodie grunted as she fell.

"Why are you interfering? Why are you defying my acts that I do in the Lord's name?" She stood on shaky legs, but Arthur ignored her, kneeling and trying to wake his love.

"Alfred..." His only answer was the small breaths that were accompanied by rough coughing.

She grabbed him and smashed the back of his head against the mirror that was the front of the bathroom cabinet. Shards of silvered glass fell into the

"You damned my son! He won't repent! **_And it's all your fault!_**" She punched him, hearing a crack in the glass as she hit his cheekbone. She was probably forcing his head to cut more on the shards, noticing blood drip down into the sink bowl.

Arthur whimpered but reached up to grab her face with one hand and pull the hand that punched him to his face. He closed his eyes and tenderly kissed the pale flesh.

Jodie blinked, confused. "What are you doing?" she asked, shocked as he pulled her thumb into his mouth.

Arthur opened his eyes, green gazing at her blue with hatred in them. He bit on the appendage in his mouth, ignoring her shouts of pain, and piercing the skin with his teeth, blood filling his mouth.

"You demon!" She pulled away from him completely, resting her back against the wall. "Why are you hurting me?"

He grabbed the aerosol can, blood dripping from his lips as he spoke.

"Because you hurt your son."

A hit to her head again on the same spot, making her vision swim. She tried to get out.

"Because you used rape and your religion as excuses to try and change your son."

A hit to the back of her head, the can hitting it harshly and the force actually making her face hit the ground.

"Because..." He remembered coming over to Alfred's house and how the American would always look to the driveway, just to see if his mother was home.

Relief was always on his face when the driveway was empty.

He heard Alfred gurgle a bit as he began to breathe more easily.

Sirens greeted his ears, as well as shouts of the officers.

"Because you're home."

* * *

><p>15 May 2012 - 7:49 PM<p>

TITLE) A new song I'm writing...

1) "Jodie" - Oh, God, I'm feeling sick.

2) A Rosary - My family uses it for prayer, like a lot of Catholic families. Only time we've used it as a group was at my Grandpa's wake. There are... 6... plus 12 times 5 plus 1. That's 67 prayers right there, and that's the version that we used at my Sunday classes.

3) This is Arthur's magical ballad, finished on 14 May 2012 aat 6:50 AM. Alfred's was called "That Awkward Moment" and Arthur's is called "Looking Glass"

4) In case no one knows, the burning of the cities of Sodom and Gemora are what a lot of people use to go against homosexuality and anything associated, as both cities were mainly guilty of sodomy. Lot's wife looked back when the Angels came to save Lot's family and turned into a pillar of salt and died.

Saul was a Roman who arrested and persecuted Christian. God blinded him and he basically saw the Light after that. He regained his sight though the grace of a prophet of God and changed his name to Paul to spread the word of God.

Peter was one of Jesus's disciples. On the night of the Last Supper (Passover), Jesus said that Peter would deny him three times before the cock crowed. Peter insisted that he wouldn't. When the Romans had arrested Jesus, three people came and basically said "Peter is a follower of Jesus! Arrest him as well!" Peter said that he didn't know Jesus each time. And then the rooster crowed. :(

5) Why did no one tell me that I was spelling Tennessee wrong?

6) "Because you're home" - from a scary movie that I can't really recall the name of now. The Visitors?

I was thinking of ending it here, but I think not.


	10. A Spoonful of Sugar

16 May 2012 - 6:52 PM

Thanks for the reviews last chapter. I know it was pretty bad, what with the attempted murder and stuff. :)

It'll be happier...

Note: "A Spoonful of Sugar" belongs to Disney's Mary Poppins

Note 2: The timeline is now out of sync, as this chapter takes place about two months after the incident with Jodie. I'll back track to what happened later that day, don't worry ;)

* * *

><p>Chapter 10: A Spoonful of Sugar<p>

* * *

><p>It was Friday, March 14, 2057.<p>

Alfred and Arthur were sleeping in the back seat of their guardians' car, a simple 2056 Nissan van. They'd been riding for about six and a half hours, stopping every once in a while to stretch and just relax for a while (not to mention bathroom breaks). Derek turned to Neil.

"I think they'll have a lot of fun."

Neil smiled, but kept his eyes on the road. "I haven't been there in years but yeah, I think that they'll have fun. They deserve it."

They were such good kids.

* * *

><p>When Alfred and Arthur were awoken, they looked around, startled.<p>

"Papa?" Alfred chirped. He adjusted his lopsided glasses and looked to Arthur, who was rubbing his eyes. "Where are we?"

Neil smiled. They were in front of a large building that looked as though it were an apartment building, but it was nicely kept.

Alfred stepped out of the car. Arthur looked out of the back window and gasped.

"Why is there a zip line here?"

Alfred looked behind himself and saw the zip line there, high above them and going through various trees.

"Daddy?" Derek smiled at his son, patting his head.

"You guys need a vacation, sweetie. That's why your father and I decided to bring you two here." He handed Alfred the brochure to the Wydharm Resort in Wisconsin Dells, Wisconsin.

Alfred stared at the paper. "We're at a resort?" His eyes went wide with excitement. He and Arthur would be staying at a resort?

Arthur shakily got out of the car, almost stumbling and falling if Alfred hadn't reached him. Neil and Derek both smiled at that. They watched Alfred set Arthur upright and the Brit blush brightly.

"Thank you..." Arthur blushed a bit more as Alfred hugged him.

"You're welcome!"

He loved his smile.

* * *

><p>Alfred and Arthur were going to bed. Their guardians had gotten a special suite. Two separate bedrooms with bathrooms attached to each. One bedroom had two beds, just because they were trying to get Alfred to sleep by himself again.<p>

"Alfred, you have to sleep in your bed." Neil tucked his son in and kissed his head. "Arthur is here on the other bed, all right?"

"Yes, Papa."

Neil left and Alfred closed his eyes for a few seconds. He turned to Arthur, who was watching the news.

"Arthur?" The Briton looked to the American.

"Yes, poppet?"

"If..." he whispered, looking away. "If I have a nightmare, can I sleep with you?"

Arthur smiled and nodded.

"Of course."

* * *

><p>Arthur had a nightmare.<p>

He was running away.

Running away from home through a thick wood.

He looked back and he saw a large, green-eyed wolf chasing him.

_Run, run, run._

Arthur listened to the voice and stopped in a small clearing. He didn't hear the steps of the wolf. As Arthur looked to the sky, he asked.

"God, where are you? Why did you leave?" He looked down and saw blood on his feet, pools of the red substance starting to form.

_"Arthur, I've never left."_

"But why? Why can't I just fly away?" Blood was coursing down his legs, results of his father, the wolf, and his activities.

_"But you can."_ A small rustle behind him.

Arthu looked behind his back and he saw beautiful wings, wonderful white wings that could take him far, far away. He felt his new muscles and appendages take him up into the sky.

So free he felt like flying to the clouds and never looking back.

He screamed as talons dug themselves into the back of his neck. Arthur looked up and saw an eagle.

With green eyes.

And a sickening smile, sharpened teeth in the beak.

"**_Where do you think you're going,_ _Arthur?_**"

Arthur ended up back on the ground, blood still flowing from between his legs, never stopping.

There in front of him were his wings.

_"Arthur..."_

He looked up at the sky, not really talking to anyone and not really paying attention to God's voice anymore.

"They took my wings...!" In front of him were the cut, torn, destroyed wings, the feathers bloody and tarnished, his back aching from where they had been taken.

"I can't fly anymore..."

* * *

><p>Arthur sat up, panting.<p>

"Ssh..." he heard, and he felt a hand rub his head. Alfred was holding him against his chest, trying to comfort him. Arthur pulled away.

"Ssh... Arthur, you were crying..." Alfred looked up at him with concerned eyes. Eyes filled only with love, Arthur gazed into. Such a beautiful boy.

"I... My father..."

Alfred held his hand tightly.

"Your dad can't come here. Not ever. Papa and Daddy will keep you safe..." the American whispered soothingly, sitting up and coming close to hug his lover.

"And I will too."

Arthur held onto Alfred's hand tightly. "Why? Why do you care so much?"

Alfred lifted the other's hand, kissing it sweetly.

"Because I love you. You are so beautiful, you are really good at a lot of things I don't get, you make me laugh, you stayed at the hospital..." He lifted Arthur's hand to feel his chest. Alfred's heart was pumping inside his chest, like normal, but to Arthur, it seemed a bit faster, yet something subdued, like a ballet dance.

"You are the only one that makes my heart beat like this."

Arthur had more tears pouring down his face.

Alfred heard the words "Stupid git," before feeling lips on his cheek, making him blush brightly.

It was Saturday, March 15, 2057, at 2:24 AM.

* * *

><p>22 May 2012 - 7:40 AM<p>

TITLE) I thought it was cute

1) Why they're in Wisconsin Dells = I'm starting to write this while here in Wisconsin with my family and my aunt's family. It's fun.

2) My mum recently told me about a nightmare she had. Very similar to Artie's. I love you, Mom.

Please review.


	11. All the Small Things

26 May 2012 - 3:52 PM

Yay! Reviews!

STILL POSTING HERE UNTIL KICKS ME OFF

**All the Small Things** belongs to Blink 182

1 October 2012 - 6:36 PM - I'm sorry. I've been gone for way too long. ::hugs::

**This chapter is kept to the smallest amount of graphicness as possible. I apologize for anyone feeling incredibly unsettled while reading this.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 11: All the Small Things<p>

* * *

><p>It was Saturday, January 13, 2057.<p>

Arthur was sitting in the waiting room, a can of Pepsi in his hand. One of the nurses, Katyusha Brakinski, was rubbing his back, small circles drawn onto his shirt invisibly.

"Drink, child..." she advised, her thick Ukrainian accent making her roll her R and making her voice sound so musical. Arthur did so, letting the shock that he felt be tempered a bit by the sugar.

"Do... Do you think he'll be all right?" His voice was hoarse somehow, perhaps from the tears that he was holding back. Alfred had to be all right. He had to.

"Yes, I believe so." Arthur read the ID card that was attached to her lanyard. Katya Brakinski. "His oxygen was a bit low, but it has gone up to normal levels. The water in his lungs is being taken out." She hugged him. "Don't worry. Your friend shall be fine. You saved him."

"Thank you." Nurse Katya smiled at him and then stood to attend to other patients, telling him that she would be back soon to check on him as well as Alfred.

He hung his head. It was his fault.

All of the signs of that bitch's abuse had been in front of him. The letter that Alfred had written him, how he was always scared to go home, how he had acted at the church, defending Arthur so boldly and freezing when his mother was mentioned.

Why hadn't he seen it?

Neil and Derek came in and they coddled Arthur for a while, until the Doctor came.

"He has a slight case of pneumonia and he was hit in the head several times." He checked the nurse's clipboard in his hands. "We will have to do a psychological assessment."

Neil nodded, frog in his throat. "That's fine," he whispered.

"An officer is also coming by to ask this boy here some questions." The doctor gestured to Arthur, who nodded.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

><p>Arthur and Derek sat next to each other as the policewoman asked questions about what had happened, why he had come to the house and all.<p>

"Do you still have the letter that Alfred wrote to you?" Arthur blinked.

"Will I get it back?"

She smiled at him. "Of course. We can use it as evidence that he was calling out for help... Something that we can use against her in court."

Derek stood and shook her hand. "Thank you, Officer."

"Elizabeta Hedervary." She turned to Arthur, looking him over. He sipped at his Pepsi-Lite, still trying to come down from the shock. Poor boy... "We're going to make sure that she is put away for a long, long time. No one should be hurt like this. Ever."

Derek nodded. "Thank you, Officer Hedervary."

She left and went to report back to her partner. "Roderich..."

Derek turned back to his ward. "Arthur... It's not your fault."

"It is. It is..." Arthur leaned against the man as he was held close. "If I had noticed sooner, then he wouldn't be hurt now."

The man just rocked him back and forth. "You saved him, Arthur. It's all that you were able to do, and that's what matters the most."

* * *

><p>Arthur, Neil, and Derek sat in Alfred's room, Arthur holding Alfred's hand, caressing the back of it softly with his thumb. When would he wake up?<p>

Alfred's body suddenly jerked as he coughed. Arthur stood up. "Neil!"

Neil came over to his son, laying a hand on his forehead. "Alfred, it's Dad. Wake up, son."

Arthur felt a bit of jealousy, but so much love still, at that. His father had never done that with him, but in the end, it didn't matter. He watched as Alfred's eyes opened slowly, glazed and looking about the room in a bit of confusion. The heart monitor raced just a bit faster until Alfred managed to catch Arthur's gaze.

"... Artie?"

He let go of the breath he hadn't know he'd been holding. Neil sighed as well in relief. Derek went to get the doctor.

"Good morning, Alfred." Alfred sighed a bit, almost a yawn, but not quite. Neil pet his hair.

"Does your head hurt at all, Alfred?" Alfred turned to his father and shook his head.

"No, Papa."

Neil blinked. "Alfred, are you sure?"

Alfred nodded.

Arthur felt his eyebrows furrow. "Neil?"

The doctor entered. He looked kind and had dark brown hair. When he spoke, it was with an Italian accent, his voice warm and soothing.

"Hello, all. I'm Dr. Roma Vargas." He looked at Alfred, coming forward to shake his hand, a gesture which Alfred returned.

"Alfred, do you remember what happened?"

Alfred nodded. "Mom... Jodie put me in the bathtub... I couldn't breathe." He became quiet again, his bottom lip quivering.

"Can she come here?" Arthur clenched his fist. Alfred sounded oh so very frightened... How was his pain not Arthur's fault?

"No, she can't, Alfred." Dr. Roma looked at his charts for a moment. This boy had had his head held under water multiple times. There was even some scarring - from many months ago, but severe enough to be documented - in a rather intimate place. That woman had hurt him even...

"Is it all right if I speak with Alfred alone for a few moments?"

Neil's eyes widened. "Did something else happen?"

"Something that Alfred needs to clarify for me is all." Dr. Roma watched as Alfred hugged Arthur close, whispering to him soothing words.

Poor boys...

* * *

><p>Derek held his head in his hands. He had known Jodie from the time that he meant Neil. How could he have not noticed her personality? Alfred had always been like a son to him... A son that he never could have had, as he was strictly a homosexual, he was rejected numerous times in attempts for adoption, and he was infertile to top it all off. If he had truly believed that God was watching over him, it was the moment when Alfred called him "Uncle Derek" and later when he called him "Dad," he felt his heart jump.<p>

He could be the father he had always wanted to be.

God was merciful to him...

Of course, humans made life difficult, and when he had seen Arthur, his son's lover, with blood on his clothes, injured, and his son with wet hair and a pale face, he choked.

Neil held his husband close as he cried softly.

Arthur sat next to Neil, watching his guardians seek comfort in each other. Would he and Alfred be like that someday?

If Alfred would still want him?

"Excuse me."

The family all lifted their heads to see Dr. Vargas with a sad expression on his face. It looked so unnatural there.

Derek stood, wiping the tears from his face. "What's wrong?"

Vargas sighed and steeled himself.

"This Jodie... Did she rape Alfred?"

Arthur spoke. "Yes... She didn't want him to be gay or anything close and thought that she could change that by having sex with him..." He felt a bit nauseous.

Vargas nodded and wrote something on the chart. The only noise between the four was the scribbling of an ink pen on paper. Neil spoke up.

"What else, doctor?"

Vargas sighed. "There was scarring inside of Alfred... She wasn't just having intercourse with Alfred the 'normal way'-" he said, using air quotes.

"- He has cuts where he shouldn't. She was raping him with a knife as well."

Silence.

And then more tears.

* * *

><p>Alfred whimpered a bit as he slept. He was remembering things that he did not want to remember at all.<p>

_"Keep praying, Alfred."_

_He was being torn apart! Why was Jodie doing this?! He didn't like it._

_His throat was burning, having screamed so much against the headkerchief that had been stuffed into his mouth._

_He kept screaming, though, as the knife went in places that it shouldn't. Jodie was very careful about how she moved the blade, not wanting to harm him more than what was necessary for him to learn his lesson._

_God and Jodie were expecting that of him._

* * *

><p>Arthur entered Alfred's room. Alfred was sipping water through a bendy straw.<p>

"Hi, Arthur!" Blue eyes looked cheerily at him, pink edging his eyes.

"You were crying."

Alfred nodded slowly, not wanting to lie to Arthur. He loved him too much.

"Dr. Vargas asked me things about Jodie... What she did. I had a nightmare when I was napping."

He watched as Arthur came close, knelt down and laid his head on Alfred's thigh, his face hidden in the hospital linens. His shoulders were shaking.

"Arthur..?"

"I'm sorry..." His voice was small and so repenting.

Alfred lifted up Arthur's head by placing his hand on his cheek and guiding his gaze upwards.

"Arthur..."

"..." Green eyes looked back at his.

"Dr. Vargas said that I'm not okay in the head right now. My talking is all funny, like when I was little. I don't understand some things, but I want you to understand something, okay?"

Arthur nodded slowly. His tears were coming down a bit more slowly, Alfred noticed, as Arthur turned his head a bit to rub his cheek gently against Alfred's hand.

"I forgive you."

Arthur closed his eyes.

"You didn't know how to help me, but you saved me in the end. What ever forgiveness you need, you have it already... Thank you."

Arthur kissed the palm of his hand.

* * *

><p>1 October 2012 - 7:51 PM<p>

TITLE) "All the Small Things" was a song I heard when I was in middle school and very much into "Danny Phantom". Whenever I hear that song I feel so happy, and "all the small things" reminds me that they're all that matters in the end. Seeing someone smile, or receiving a hug from someone, those little things can make all the difference.

1) Jodie is a fucking demon.

2) Alfred hit his head while struggling for survival when Jodie was hurting him in chapter 9. It gave him a concussion and it made his personality regress back to the point when everything was better for him; when he was eleven years old, his mother was nicer, his father and Uncle Derek (Daddy) took him outside to play and go to the amusement park, and the boy in his class was nice to him and very cute. His memories are still there, but he is a bit more positive, how he used to be. That fear from his mother is gone, something that he thought would never happen, and he has Arthur to thank for that.


End file.
